Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

f . Y I WAITER ELLINGTON, And Nellie Cranston. The Mysterious Murder. Aii Exciting Story. CHAPTER X. Walter Ellington left Nettlethorpe on the follow- iner morning, accompanied by a boy wheeling hi* trunk, a black leather bag, ani a brown paper par cel. Black Ralph awaited at the entrance to the station, and received him with a smile of satisfac- “Good morning sir,” said he. “This looks like business. Put your traps into the hand of a por- “This done Walter took up the brown paper parcel and followed Ralph into the waiting room. •> This is for Nelly.” said he, as he placed the par cel on the table. “It is a work-box the prettiest I could find in King’s Lias. Tell her I hope she will like it, and regard it as a mark of my esteem for her.” „ . . , "JShe shall have it, Master Ellington,” rejoined Ralph. “And now for bu iness. Here are the five sovs which you are to pay me when you can, with a trifle of interest. When vou have fixed yourself in London, you must let me know your address.” ATalter tore a leaf out of his pocket book, and wrote upon it, “I O U £5.—Walter Ellington.” “That is the thing—right as a trivet,” observed R Ipli. . Soon the. steam horse started, and the tram rush - •ed away from the station Arrived in the metropolis, our hero located b m- self in an humble lodging, and the next morning began his quest of employment by a diligent peru sal of the advertisements of the daily newspapers. Three 01 four of these he resp' inded to, and received a brief note the same evening, requesting him to call at eleven o'clock next morning at the office of Mr. Jerdan, stock broker, Warneford Court. Punctually to a minute he presented himself. • “You are Mr. Ellington, I supposed” said the stock-broker. “Yes, sir.” “Sit down a few moments,” said Mr. Jerdan. I am going out and will speak to you on my return.” He bad not been gone many minutes whn a stout middle-aged gentleman, whose countenance bore ttie impress of benevolence upon every feature en tered the office. “Mr. Jerdan has just stepped out for a few mo ments,” observed our hero. “Etif ejaculated the stranger, turning quickly toward him, “your voice is familiar to me. Your name is Ellington, is it not t “Yes, sir.” “Yo ’ do not remember me ?’’ said the gentleman. “I saw y ou at Nettlethorpe, when I dined one day with your father six months ago,” said the stranger. My name is Seagrave. Are you your own master? Is there no guardian appointed;” “Mv father made no will, sir,” rejoined Walter. His pr ipertv has gone therefore to his cou«in, Sum er ford; and! am here to offer my services to Mr. Jerdan as clerk ” “Indeed!” responded Mr. Seagrave. “But yon inherit his propertv, will or no will.” J ‘Mr. Somerford asserts that I am illegitimate, and I have no means of proving the contrary,” re turned our hero. “Somerford is a scoundrel and a black-leg. ex claimed Mr. Seagrave. “ Your father married your mother in the parish church of Monk’s Bridge in Kent. I have heard him mention the place many a time; your mother’s family owned property there. ’ “You inspire me with hop >, sir. I will go down t» Monk’s bridge the first opportunity, and obtain a certified copy of the register which will vindicate mv mother's hononSpid restore to me the name, and recover for rnethe properly Which Somerford ..1 J ‘ K^l.lc ,rn.,i me ” o' - ^artlCT, - -*,»,*V^> Seagrave. “But here is Mr. Jer<3an.” The stock broker entered as tie spoke. “I have been agreeably surprised by meeting here the sou of an old and esteemed friend,” said Mr. Seagrave. ‘if the young gentleman is a friend of yours, and my teruis—Jive shillings per week w ill suit him, there is the stool and desk ready for him,” observed Mr. Jordan. Walter looked surprised and disconcerted at the amount of the remuneration offered for his services. “That will do for pock t money, I suppose,” said Mr. Seagrave with a smile; “and for the present I hope you will regard my house as your home;” and lie placed hi« card on our hero’s desk as he spoke. Walter’s countenance brightened at this invita tion. He was no 1 sorry to remove the trunk and traveling bag which contained all his possessions, from the humble lodgings at which he had slept the preceding night, to the handsome villain which Mr. Seagrave resided at Forest Hill. Tne gentleman received him with the utmost co - diality. and together they discoursed upon plans for the discovery of the great mystery. feet five or six, inches and of fair complexion,” re plied theclerk’.” “About what age ?” inquired our hero eagerly. “He had gray hair, but he did not look old in the face. I should say he was a good looking, well-pre served man of fifty, or a vear or two younger. “Grey hair!’’ repeated Walter. “A wig perhaps,” observed Mr. Seagrave. “What can t>e done now?” said Walter, as he walked beside Mr. Seagrave, after they had quitted the church. “We must advertise for witnesses of the marriage and such like,” replied his friend. There must sure ly be some survivor of the wedding party; but if no such person comes forward we can only watch and wait.” They returned to London that evening; and two days afterwards an advertisement appeared in the leading journal, calling for wirnesses of the mar riage; but days and weeks passed and no response appeared, and the mystery of the missing leaf of the Monk’s Bridge register appeared as impenetra hie as the more dread mystery of the Dead Man’s Rock. CHAPTER XII. There was a flower show in the grounds of the rectory at Nettlethorpe, and all the gentry of the neighborhood were there, besides the summer visi tors to King’s Lias. Nelly Cranston was there, making as tidy an ap pearance as her scanty wardrobe rendered possible. Nelly’s attention had been drawn frim the con templation of the flowery clumps of rhododendrons by the appearance of the gentleman whom she had seen place the watch in the pocket of Ellington s coat. She was sure it was he. She could not be mistaken, and she reserved to watch him, and to communicate the fact of his pres ence to the constable on dutv in the grounds. . Mr. Jones seemed to be look ng for some one whom he expe cted to see there. _ At iast his wandering glance fell upon Mr. Som erford and his wife, towards whom he advanced with alacrity. , Lifting bis hat with grave courtesy as he came up to them,he extends! hi right hand with a smile of gratification wreathed his countenance. To his surprise and mortification no sign of reeog- nl ion was manifested by either the lady or .gentle- m Soinerford regarded him with a cold glanee of surprise, and the pair walked on. “00that is it, is it?” he muttered. The co?d shoulder, eh? Wo are up in the world, and must shake off our old pals, eh?” He followed the Somerford’s with an angry glance fora moment, and then he walked in an op posite direction. On bis way he passed the consta ble, who turned to have a look at hira, and was still looking when Nelly came up. . “Ain’t you the girl who got youngEIbngton off; said he. ,, “Yes;” she replied, eagerly, and that is the man who put the watch and chain into his pocket! I have been watching for him ancs looking for you this half hour.” “I thought I knew something about him, ob served the constable. “Beg pardon, sir, said he,, touching the gentleman's arm. “Isn't your name Wilfred Jones?” “Yes, tha‘ is my Mm?,” replied the gentleman. “Must trouble you to come with me' then. ” sail the constable. “That little affair of youtng Elling ton’s, you know.” “1 don’t understand you,” returned Mr- A\ 11 ford Jonee- “What affair are you speaking oil ?” “It was you who pint the watch and chain into the poor lad’s pocket, you wicked man !” exclaimed Nelly; “I saw you do-it, though you sEd not see me.” ... “Is the girl mad ?” said he, regarding her with * look of surprise. What does this mean, constable? “The girl,” replied the constable, ‘"has sworn that she saw a man do what she says, and she now points you out as the man who did it.” “I know all about the murder,” observed Wilford Jonet. “It was my evidence that got off the man who was accused of it. As for wbat this girl al- station at King‘s Lias, this afternoon, attended by a gentleman in blue; and when we got there, she was turned out and I received an apology fi inspector for the indignity I had been subjec t0 '“That is one of the advantages of being a swell," observed Black Ralph. . . , , . ■ “I do not se-j it in that light, “ rejoined his vis itor. “It seems that the magistrates have been conferring about the mystery of the murder ana young Ellington's seeming intimacy with your (laughter. By-the-by, is she your daughter, Cran ston ?“ “No,“ replied Ralph, after a pause. She is the child of an old pal, who was lagged when she was a mere b-tby. “ . “As I was saying, young Eilington s friendly manner towards her. his statement that he was here on the night of the murder, and the fact that he was seen in your company at the railway station on the morning of his departure from Nettlethorpe, have caused the magistrates to reject her story about me, and to look more suspiciously than ever upon the boy.“ “Eh !“ ejaculated Ralph. “You say yon-boll the key to the mystery ? said wilford Jones. “That is my secret,, 1 * returned Ralph, turning sharply upon his visitor. “And I do not mean to share it with anybody.“ .... . . “My dear fellow, I am not fishing for it, 1 rejoin ed Joues; “I was only wondering why you have not used it for putting a him Ired pounds in your pocket by denouncing the murderer, and claiming the reward offered. “ “I will tell you," said Black Ralph. “I do not do so because there is a better market for my secret, and I can make more money by keeping than by re vealing it. Is there anything else you want to know ?“ “Much,* 1 repl ed Jones. “I came here with the hope that you might be induced to assist me for a consideration, of course—in getting my revenge of Somerford. The ungrateful rascal actually cut me this afternoon at the flower show." “Wished to be even with you when he hod settled with you. I suppose,“ observed Ralph- “A ery an- noying to you qf course; but not surprising, if it is his game ne-the resjiectable dodge down here." “Blow his respectability! ” exclaimed Jones. “Do you think I do not know him ? Why, we were pals; and do yon think I am going to be insulted because lie has made a bold stroke for a fortune, and b -en lucky enough to obtain it?” “What are you going to do?” inquired R ilph. “How has he managed to get jpossession of the murdered man’s property, and to turn young El lington out?” returned Jones, answering one ques tion with an other.** “How should I know ?“ rejoined Ralph. “Look here Ralph Cranston !“ excla rned the oth er, beginning to get excited. “Somerford’s story of tlve lad hi ing illegitimate, and Eilington having died without making a will, I do not believe a word of, and I meaivitbEti ret out the truth. Now, if I was to-be caught with Samerford’s writing desk in my possession, I should g#t a good spell of penal servitude; but you could overhaul sudh things with out danger, because—’* “what do you mean ?*" exclaimed Ralph; “do you take me for a burgler. Mr. Jones?" “Never mind what I take you for," returned the other. “Get me any document that would prove that Somerford is not lawfully in possession of Fern Lodge, and I will give you tv hundred pounds." * Because you could get twice as much for it from young Ellington, and your revenge ints> the bar gain," said. Black Ralph. “Your game is a litt'e mo transparent, my friend, why, don’t you see, Mr. wilford Jones, that if I was disposed to turn against Mr.. Somerford, I could make a miar-h better bargain with young EU.ngton than with you. You have cometiie wrong man. Mi-, wilford Jones." "You will not do it, then!" said his visitor. “No!" exclaimed Ralph. “Do you suppose I am going to be made a tool of by the tool of another ? Such a poor jooI’as you, too, who could not do that I “Oh, yes, of all things,” replied Nelly, her eyes tie men maue ms way to r ern mage. « -klin°- ^vitD expectancy. The lights had disappeared from the drawing- spa T . ® hw rp .. up with me to-morrow room, but there were candles burning in the cham- j orn j„g ” Ralph * bers. Domino Dick did not de*mi it prudent to be seen prowling about the neighborhood at that late hour, so he laid down behind a hedge until he heard the clock strike one. “They are in their fast sleep,” he said to himself. No Oiie was in sight. He vaulted over the gate, crossed the lane, and clambered over the wall that bounded Mr. Somerford’s garden. There was a balcony and verandah on the first floor, supported by light columns, serving as sup ports to a variety of climbing plants. Up one of these Dick clambered, with the agility of a cat, into the balcony. Here he found a drawing room window unfas tened, and in a few m’nutes he was in the room. Having taken off his boots, he crossed the room on tip-toe, opened the door, crept down the softly carpeted stairs into the hall. There was a door to the right, and another to the left. He chose the latter, and opening the door as noise’essly as possible, glided into the room. It was in darkness, for the shutters were closed; but he quickly ligh eda match, and, finding a lamp on the table, applied it to the wick. By the light thus obtained, he saw upon the table a writing- desk, but it was locked. “I told him that burglary was not in my line !” he muttered. Ttien he took up the lamp and descended to the basement—where he discovered a screwdriver. Armed with this, he returned to the library, and succeeded in breaking open the desk. He raised the inner lids, and turned over the contents. At the bottom be found a folded sheet of foolscap, aud without examination he thrust it into his pocket. He was about to close the desk, when he observed another paper of small siz-q and this was also has tily consigned to his pocket. Then he closed the desk, hurried through the hall, and having put on his boots, let himself out by the back door. He closed the door noiselessly, proceeded towards the wall, and clambered over it into the lane. He reached the heath, and then he laid down amongst the-furze, and slept for several hours. When he awoke, the sun was shining. He sprang to his feet, and at once set off for the railway sta tion. Burglary was an offence which Dick had never committed before, and he felt uneasy until he was seated in the train, and on his way to London. CHAPTER XV. Dick Dimmock reached London without meeting a SeTlTghted'uom the train, an I in a few minutes ha 1 plunged into a dingy street, between the A a- terloo Road and the Biackfriars Road in which lo cality he resided. He thought it best to hide tne documents at his own lodging, and then communi cate with Wilford Jones, instead of lncumng the risk of conveying them him-elf to that gentleman. It w^Tgr 5 eat S relief to him to find that the room which he had occupied before he left London was still unoccupied. , . , „ , “Which there is a fortnight s rent owing for, ob served his lend lady; “and if so be you wants to come back, that must be settled up before you hangs UP * There is half th* money, and you shall have the rest this evening,” said Dick nervously. , “Thankee,” returned his landlady. Short 1 eck- onings make long friends, they say, Mr. Dimmock. So- ft *3 little pocket bmjvYss at the cowshed without !•«- it. <gn," getting your neck into tbe han/g- CHAPTER XIY. SOMERFOBJ> SCENTS DANGER. Soffloerford was dressing on the morning after the- burglary at Fern Lodge, when a servant tapped at the door, and informed him that she had found the back door unfastened and the library door open. He immediately ran down stairs and entered the library, whore be observed upon the table the screw drUer with which Domino D.ck had forced open the writing desk. He rai sed the lid with a trembling hand, and dis covered the loss of the documents which Dick had abstracted. “Both gone !” he murmuzred, as he pros ed his hand upon his forehead, “I am ruined ! This must be that, infernal boy’s work.” “What is the matter ?.” inquired his wife. “The will is gone !” he exclaimed, when he had closed the door. “Who can have done that ?” said his wife. “No mere burglar would have taken that, and not have entered this room where my jewels, you see, are afe. ” ‘‘This not the work of a common robber,” re turned Somerford. “It must be Walter’s doing. He knows all the ways of the house, and would not scruple to avail himself of the knowledge to obtain possession of the will.” “It must be so said his wife. ‘A\ e are ruined! Oh, James! To what disgrace this act will bring CHAPTER XI. That there was some deep villany. tbe depths of which he could not at present fathom, Mr. Seagrave was’ certain. “But at any rate,” said he to Walter,” you are your father’s heir, will or no w’ll. if we can obtain the proof of your legitimacy. For that proof, my dear boy, we will search together next Monday.” On the following Saturday our hero accompanied Mr. Seagrave to Margate, and was introduced to that gentleman’s family; and on Monday- he made an excursion to the village in the church of which his liarents were married. Mr. Seagrave accompanied him. Oppo-ite the church was a pretty cottage, with a small brass plate upon the door bearing the inscrip tion: “J. Evens, parish clerk and sexton.” Mr. Seagrave knocked at the door, which was opened by a young man. “We require the certificate of a marriage that was performed in this church about seventeen years ago,” said Mr. Seagrave. ‘This way gentlemen. We will go to the vestry,” said the clerk, leading the way. “We do not have many marriages in our little out of the way place, and if you are right as to the date, the register ought not to be difficult to find. AYliat were the names of the parties, sir ?” “Walter Ellington and Mary Penfold,” was the reply. The clerk unlocked a drawer, and taking out a volume, turned over the leaves. “I can find no entry of those names, sir,” observed tbe clerk, after a few mome-its. Walter’s heart sank. ‘"It camot bt> more than seventeen years ago,” ob served Mr. Seagrave, reftec'ively, “It is very- strange! You do not remember such a marriage, I suppose ?' The clerk shook his head. “Dear me,” said Mr. Seagrave. The lady belong ed to a Monk Bridge family too. Are there any of them residing about here now ?” “I have heard of them replied the clerk; “but they are all gone, and I do not kuow who coaid teL you anvthingahout them.” “Will you allow me to inspect the register?” said our hero. “It is of the greatest importance to me that 1 should be able to prove my parents’ marriage and I could not rest while the shadow of a doubt remained.” “You are welcome to examine the books, sir, but I am sure you will look in vain, though.” Mr. Seagrave walked up and down the vestrv while our hero inspected the register with tremb ling hands and anxious eyes. ‘What is this ?” exclaimed Walter suddenly “Look here sir, there has heen a leaf cut out’” “Mr. Seagrave said to the clerk: “Can vou call to mind any former occasion when this book has been in the hands of a stranger?” “Yes,” replied the clerk; “only a few weeks ago there was a stranger here who said he was collect ing information relating to some old families in Thanet, and obtained permission to examine the register. I left him alone during part of the time he was so occupied, and I afterwards put away the register without examining them.” I “Have %be good less to describe the gentleman ' you sp> ak of.” s -id our h*-r- . I ‘•He wa* rather a good looking mail, about five ‘Well, do not take hold of my arm, and Tiring a iwd after u«,” said Wilford Jones. “He walked by the side of the constable into King’s Idas, and Nelly followed close in the rear. “1 am sorry for this, sir,” said the inspector, as soon as they were in his presence. “You can run away, girl, you are not wanted here Nell}- gazed at the inspector in surprise* aud was about to repeat the accusation, when a constable placed a hand upon her shoulder and pushed her in to the street. “The fact is,” continued the inspector, “that the girl’s story impressed the bench strongly when it was told, and led to young Ellington’s di-charge: but w-hen the lad was seen talking with her, their apparent intimacy was coupled with the fact that the lad had been at the hovel of Ralph Cranston on the night, of the murder, in a manner unfavorable to the girl’s credit for veracity. Next morning the lad was seen in Ralph’s company at the railway station, where the black muzzled fellow received a parcel from him. All this looks very bad, you see, and, in consequence the girl’s story is now discred ited, and a new theory of the murder has been adopted by the magistrates.” “Then I am at liberty ?” exclaimed Mr. Wilford Jones. “You are, sir,” replied tlie Inspector; “and I am very soi-ry that you have been subjected to the in dignity of being brought here on such a charge. Good-afternoon, sir." ‘ "Good-afi ernoon, “ returned the delighted Jonas, and, the next moment, he was in the street, and on his way to the railroad station. But Wilford Jones did not return to London by the next train. He merely refreshed himself with a glass of ale at the bar of the station, and then walked in the direc tion of the heath. “Ha curs me, does he ?" he muttered, as he reach ed the furze-covered wild, in the mid t of which the hovel of Black Ralph stood. “After what I have done for him, too ! Well, I know a thing or two, and, if I do not fi i d out a little more, and make a stinging rod for my gentleman, my name is not Wilford Jones CHAPTER XIII. THE BLACKGUARDS. ‘ This must be the but,” said wilford Jones to himself, as he paused before Black Ralph’s crazy looking abode, and rapped at the door. It was opened by Ralph himself, who recognized his vis tor at a glance. “I want to have a little talk with you,” observed Jones. “Come in,” responded Ralph, not very cordially. “It is not often thtt my shanty is honored with the visit of a gentleman,'so I suppose I ought to feel proud; but I am n t fond ot visitors, especially when I do not know- what their game is.” wilford Jones drew a chair to the table, and sat down in a le.surely manner. “Y ou speak as if we were strangers, Ralph Cran ston,” he said. “Have you f 1 .rgotten that it was my evidence got you out of trouble when you were suspected of ttie murder of Mr. Ellington ?” “No,” replied Ralph, with a peculiar smile. “Shall I tell you why you did me that service ?” “Why, if not because I wished to save an inno cent man from ‘he gallows ?” returned the other, looking intently at him. “Gallows be blowed !” exclaimed Ralph. “I was no more in danger of that than you are at this mo ment Rather less, perhaps. Your ueck might he slipped into the halt-r instead of the right man’s; but I hold ihe key to the Mystery of Dead Man’s Rock, and while I hold that I am in no danger my- s ir.“ “So that is the s tuation. is it ?“ said W dford Jones, surveying Ralph's countenance for a few moments, and then gazing out of the wiudow. “You see, “ continued Ralph, “I was got off, be cause, if the case got ugly, I should have rounded U[ion the m.in that, did the job, to save my own neck." “Just so “ observed his visitor, still looking from the window. “So, you see, I do not consider myself under an obligation to anybody," pursued Ralph. “And now we understand each other so far, it may be well to le me know, before my g>rl comes home, what it is that has brought you here this evening." *‘Y" >ur girl has had h*-r teeth drawn, my friend. “ returned 111-; o.hei. “We pa d a v sit to the police Tne next moment lie had quitted the hovel. “A dangerous man, " muttered Black R ilph; “but just as likely to get himself into trouble as anybody else." wlfred Jones walked quickly across the heath on leaving the hovel of Black Ralph, an 1 readied the railway station in time for the next train. He was about to refresh hi nself with a glass of ale, when he found himself an object of attention on tli > part of a young man of pt c niar appearance, t .edu T u..-on. whose well-worn boot ,, showed that lie had had a long walk. “what, Mr. Jones !“ exclaimed the stranger. “Blowed if I hardly knowed yer! You is togged out up to the knocker, and no kid.“ The individual who accosted Wilfred Jones in ! his farn li ir manner, had his hair cut as if he bad just come out of prison, a white hat with a black band round it, a threadbare black coat much too large for him, and checked trowsers too short. “Dick Diaimocks, as I am a sinner !“ exclaimed Jones, with a smile. “Yes, Domino D ck,“ said the queer-looking be ing. “I say, you might ask a fellow to have a glass of ale, yer know." “Come outside," sai.l Jones. “H 're is a shilling for you," hj said, after they had passed out. “Have your ale, and take a return third-class ticket to the next station 011 the up line. Get into the carriage you see me g‘*t into, for I want a few words with you." “All right,“ said Dick. “I shall have my eye on yer, yer know." Dick hurried into the bar, and Mr. Jones got his ticket, and sauntered down the platform. “In a minute or t wo Dick appeared, the train ran up. and >li-y stepped into the same carriage, select ing an empty compartment. "I suppose you are hard up,“ said Mr. Jones, as soon ns the train had started. “Never was harder up in my life !“ responded Dick. “Well, look here, Dick,” said the other. “Not to beat about the bush, I want you to rummige a gent’s papers, and bring me what you find. There is a house at Nettlethorpe called Fern Lodge, which you will have to get into; and the papers I want are the will of Mr. Ellington, and any family docu ments, such as marriage certificates, and letters or memoranda, which throw any light 011 the fam ily affairs.” Dick nodded two or three times while Jones was speaking. “I understand,” said he. “AYliat am I to have for it: because burglary is not in my line, yer know.” “Never mind about the burglary,” returned Jones. “You will be doing a good action, Dick, for the gent that lives in the house is keeping a poor boy out of his rights.” “You don’t say so !” exclaimed Dick, with a look of reprobation. “Fact, I assure you,” returned Jones. “But you do not mean ‘virtue is to be its own reward,’ as they say iu the copy books, do yer ?” said Dick. “Do you suppose me capable of being so shabby, Dick,” replied the otli-.-r. “Here is a sovereign for you, and if you bring me any papers of use you shall have a t-njiound note for "your trouble.” “Fare to London, night’s lodging, supper, break fast, and a smack at Bali-bury,” said Dick, balanc ing the sovereign on his fore finger. “There will not be much change left when I get to London, \ er know.” “Bring the pajiers, and you w 11 tie all right, ’ rejoined VViif rd J i.es D tnino Dick pocketed the coin while Jones was spe dt ng. “But how can I find the house? I must know that, yer know,” said Dick. “It is a villa at a corner of the lane, near the bridge,” replied Jones. “You had bettor go across the heath.” The train now drew up to the platform at the next station, and Domino Dick jumped out. “All right,” said he, and immediately disappeared anioeg the crowding passengers. The down train passed shortly afterwards, and in a few minutes Domino Dick alighted from it at the station which he had left a short time before iu company with AVilford Jones. By the time he had reached Fern Lodge it was dark, but he could see to read the name on the gate; and, having done this, he entered a little beer- shop, where he remained until the landlord an il unced that he was about to close. “Fear not !” he returned. “It must be recovered by the same means as have been used against us, and for a toomenfe and once again ii: my hands, it shall .be consigned ^ , —J } V •riiftft'WWe l’ert tne uouse, ..minroctc.icu „rds >mei:ford in spite of the heath. He went straight t > the hovel of Black Ralph, which he entered without knocking at the door. The poacher was from home, and Nelly was sit ting alone by the open window, oecupied'vvith some needlework. “lv her ■ is Ralph Cranston ?” inquire 1 the uncer emonious visitor. “He is not at home, sir,” replied Nelly, looking up from her work in-some surprise. “So you are the girl who gave the evidence that ilas'er E lington g .t off upon ?” asked Somerford. “Yes, sir,” said tiie girl, with a faint blush. “He is an acquaintance of yours is he not ?” in quired the visitor. “AVdieti did you s e him last ?” “I have not seen him since,” replid Nelly, with increasing confusion. Somerford took a seat near the table, saying he would wait awhile. Tiiere was a draw in the table, with a lock upon it, and the key was in the lock. Upon this ins eyes settled, and a desire to know what was in the drawer came upon him, and grew stronger every moment. By an adroit movement he contrived to noise lessly pull out the drawer, while pretending to be looking towards the window. So absorbed was his mind at that moment, that iie did not observe the opening of the door, and started when the heavy hand of B!ack Ralph was laid upon his shoulder. “You make yourself at home, Mr. Somerrord,” said Ralph; “but you will not find what you are looking for there.” Somerford closed the drawer, and turned quickly round. ‘:Ralph Cranston,” said he, “my house was en tered last nigh', and documents of great impor tance to me carried away; and I have reasons to believe that a lad, whom your girl appears to be acquainted with, is the thief ” “You mean Master Ellington ?” observed Ralph, seating himself opposite his visitor. Somerford nodded. “What then ?” continued Ralph. “You do not stiopos • he would bring the papers here to be taken care of, do you ?’’ “Perhaps not,” returned his visitor. “Come out upon the heath, and I will tell you why I came here.” He rose as he spoke, and Ralph followed him from the hovel. “The papers I have lost,” said he, “are of the great-s value to me, and of no value to any one else, except young Ellington. In his hands they can be used for my ruin. They must be recovered, therefore, at any cost.” “How much easier it would have been to have destroyed them,” observed Ralph. “I was a fool not to have done so,” exclaimed Somerford. “But it is useless to lament now. What I have to do is to recover them, and for that purpose I must have your assistance.” “S iy on,” said Ralph. “Do you know where young Eilington is ?” in quired Somerford, looking intently at him. “Perhaps I do, and perhaps I do not,” returned Ralph. “I have not come out here in this blazitig sun to answer questions. Say your say out, and be doii“ with it.” “Assuming that you know where to find him, will you o 'Oiir e-t to recover them from him, and > i .g them 10 me ?” "Yes, for a consideration,” replied R dpli. “Fifty pounds if you bring me his father’s will, and twenty if you satisfy me that you have fairly made the attempt, and failed,” said Somerford. "leu pounds earnest money, and I will make the cons deration a hundred pouuds, if the lad should resist and get killed.” “I understand,” rejoined Ralph, fixing his eyes upon Somerford’s. “But hadn’t you better do tnat part of the business ? Ir. is not in my line.” “Well, get me the will and I shall be content,” said Somerford. “when will you set out ?” “To-merrow, by the firsttrain,” replied Ralph. Somerford placed ten sovereigns in the hand of skipped up _ around for a place of concealment for the papers. He looked down at the floor and the hearthstone, and finally decided upon biding them behind a P 1 ’ 1 ' tion of the skirting-board, which he fi rst loosened with a knife, and then, after concealing the docu ments behind it, replaced with a k ek of his toot. “Tnat is done,” he said aloud. ‘ Now to find out Mr. Jones.” , His lan llady saw him go out, and watched 111 the evening for his return hour after hour. “He :s a nice man, he is,” she observed, as time passed, and midnight came, but not Domino, I have got a week’s rent out of him, though, and I have taken care that he do not come in to-night.. Dick did not present himself, however either that night or oirthe following morning. A man, accom panied by a dark-eyed girl of thirteen 01- fourteen, applied in tiie afternoon for lodgings, took the two allies, and paid a week’s rent in advance. “Now give me money for wood and coal, and tea an ’ s gar, - ’ said the girl, addressing ihe dark-visag ed man, whom she accompanied, “and I will make afire, and put the kettle on for tea.” “Ay, Nelly, we will res to day, and commence work to-morrow,” returne 1 the man, as he gave her some silver. “AVe will see some of the sights of London, my girl, and get these papers if we can, and if not, we must return without them. “No harm to the lad, mind !” saitl the girl. “Not a hair of h.s head shall be touched, I tell you,” returned the mm, whom our readers have doubtless recognized as Bla k Ralph. "If does not suit my book to hint him; but I must not tell Mr. Somerford so much.” Nelly went out, re assured by these words, and Ralph smoked his pipe by the window. AVhat, in the meantime, had become of Domino D;ok ? He had got only to the corner of the street after leaving the houst, when ly became aware that he was an object of attention to a meanly-at tired man who was walking on the opposite side. To Dick, such attention was at all times annoy ing; and he at first walked fast r, and then slower, in the hope of getting rid of the ob>ervant individ ual,. towards whom he threw from time to time a furtive glance of uneasiness and dislike. The mean-looking individual was not to be avoid ed- He-followed Dick, as if ne had been his shad ow. “I cannot stand this,” muttered Dick, and, find ing himself lwar a dark court, he darted into it- As he reached the outlet at the farther end, he heard a cry of “Stop him !.” and the next moment ran into the outstretched arms of a policeman. “Hallo 1“ exclaimed the policeman; “where to, in such a hurry ?” “Let me go,” said Dick, making energetic demon strations. ” IV hal are you _ holding me for ? Isay, now, let me go, yer know.” “Hold him !” exclaimed the mean-looking indi- didual, running up. “Who are you ?” demanded Dick. What have you been following me about for, as you wanted to garote me.” 4 1-x.i. cr-w fcht? sllTllfbily- clad individuals “we have got yuu now, and mean to keep you. Y 011 know me ?” he added, turning to the policeman. “All right,” was the rejoinder. “Telia fellow what he’s wanted for,” said Dick, cea-ing to resist, and assuming an aggrieved look. “F a- swindling the gentleman on the Epsom line along with Ikey Rob,” replied the disguised police man. “Swindling P’ exclaimed Dick; what do you mean ? We only had a game or two at cards, and t.ie greenhorn lost. Il h" had won, he would have taken our money, wouldn’t he ? Do you call that swindling ?” “Y iu will find the judge will, anyhow,” rejoined tiie policeman, as they proceeded towards the sta- tion-house. “I am an unlucky fellow,” sighed Dick; every dodge I try breaks down.” “Did you ever try the honest dodge ?” inquired the policeman. “Never learned the fake of it,” replied Dick; “but this bail luck is enough to make a fellow try it, yer know.” They soon reached the station-house, where Dick was placed in a cell to await the decision of the magistrate on the following day. (To re Continued.) THAT NEW SEEING BONNET. The Woman Before She Gets it and After wards. AVhat a powerful adjunct to religion is a new spring bonnet. 1 nave known ladies—zealous chris tian worshippers—who were entirely cured of sev en ailments by the po.sesuon of the spring style of hat, I have known cases wherein ladies were gre- viously afflicted witii coughs, colds, influenza rheu matism and otner terr.ble afflict.ons, who were able to get out and attend church, and seem emirely well, immediately after getting a new spring hat. Did you ever notice a.id compare the influence produced by the pleasure of wearing a new h it iu one case, and the necessity of wearing an old one in a 1 other case ? Ttie lady in the old hat, conscious that she is a f ; .shionnble fish out of water, slides into church and sinks into her seat with a manifest attempt co avoid observation. She gives her en ire attention to her religious devotions. She looks neither to the riffht nor to the left-only straight ahead at the minister She crouches in her seat, tries to sink herself below the level of the average head, and her countenance betrays nothing bat consuming piety A week passes, and during that week the F ites have presented to that lady th ■ newest thing in spring bonnets—the genuine tin pail and towel adornment. See her aga n at church. She walks m with an an-that the Queen of Sheba might have envied. Head erect—thrown back 1 " e —and tossed now and Mien with the little, in fact sWe\o n sJr^^ side to side and upon her face i, an exoression more indicative of satisfaction, contentmentIn 1 Lappmess, than of piety an l devotion. Instead of smk.ng into her seat in a manner calculated to avo d observation, sbe gives a military*£ighSboS face when she reaches her pew, and pins hersJlf W1 a U ^'® ran ke of vision of the whole con- t“' vf' when she >its down she has a great deal of trouble in arranging her dr. ss. She “bobs aiKl , half a dozen times in the effort to ar- range her skirts, and when she finally gets settled ” ur P’isrd to find that, m sinking below the nnwV >fllead \“ S slledi ‘ 1 the previous Sunday she rs aboVe tbe rest - and the ,in pail and the self 1 are aS C ° nspl ' U )US to ail e N PS the pulpit it- w.Trshto iS Tf,« agreatd fferencein the manner of worship. The sermon seems not to require the appl.c_.tion which characterizes the -"® C,OSe Ihe lady is able to look about < Th-n they parted, and Black Ralph and her face is 1 cine-iei, tile novel. ili ’ious redlUj re- Nefly looked earnestly into his countenance. pails and towels and^he them sharnl Ulher “You have not been plotting against that poor ally and comnarativriv Sh„ tnL hcUpl >- witic- lad whose father was murdered ?” said she, inter- in "a hat of the detonct' fasloa-Th U “ ei S hbar thinks m „.. „ witbhim, Nelly,” responded Ralph. “No, n >, he shall not be | Uncle John. harmed, my girl; but if he has got those papers—! r „,i. , , '——- which I do not believe—he must give them uu ' as ” e * ar declares that the ” P ' a statesman, was more in. AV as ;i» 0 co.o in the Unite 1 8,,'tes. give them up. n « ‘“’i* vor k Tuiersperform >d Wou.d you 1 ke a trip o I o. d m, my gn; .” “ *™ S T ? 1 ° re , 1 ;! ,port:ln ' J tola that of jk .... ^