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THE  STREET -WALKER 


By  SHANK  ANDREWS. 


CRANKY  ANN, 


THE 


STREET-WALKER; 


A  STORY  OF 


By  SHANG  ANDREWS; 

AUTHOR   OF    "THE   MYSTERIES   AND    MISERIES  OP  CHICAGO;"      "WICKED 
NELL,"    AND  OTHER  ROMANCES. 


CHICAGO: 


Entered,  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1877,  by 

K.  H.  ANDREWS, 
In  the.  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


CRANKY  ANN, 

THE    STREET-    WALKER; 


A  STORY  OF 


CHICAGO    IN    CHUNKS. 


CHAPTER  L 

On  a  pleasant  summer  afternoon  in 
August,  1876 — (our  story  is  one  of 
to-day) — Alanson  Baldwin  sat  alone 
on  the  verandah  ol  his  palatial  resi 
dence  on  Wrfbash  avenue.  Though 
sixty-five  years  of  age,  he  was  phys- 
ically remarkablv  well  preserved,  and 
looked  many  years  younger  than  the 
family  record  indicated.  A  long  life 
of  industry  and  sobriety,  coupled 
with  shrewd  businesstact,  had  result- 
ed in  the  amassing  of  great  wealth, 
and,  a  few  weeks  previous  to  the 
opening  of  this  tale,  he  had  formally 
retired  from  the  active  duties  con- 
nee  ed  with  the  large  establishment 
that  he  owned  leaving  his  son,  Jere- 
miah Baldwin,  to  take  charge  of  that 
which  would  eventually  become  his 
as  a  heritage.  But  the  old  gentle- 
man had  no  idea  ol  leading  an  idle, 
listless,  lazy  life.  He  had  educated 
his  son  thoroughly,  and  had  every 
confidence  in  his  ability,  his  integ- 
rity, and  his  knowledge  of  the  world. 
Though  ihe  ownership  remained  as 
before,  the  young  man  was  ful  y  em- 
powered to  transact  all  business,  un- 
der the  supervising  eje  of  the  more 
experienced  merchant. 

As  we  have  said,  Mr.  Baldwin  sat 
alone,  and  the  serious  expression  of 
his  face  indicated  that  he  was  indulg- 
ing in  a  reverie. 

"  Sixty-five  years  old  to-day,"  he 
said,  as  though  communing  with  him- 
self; "  I  have  lived  sixty -five  years; 
have  labored  hard  all  that  time ;  have 
encountered  trouble  and  have  con- 
quered ;  have  suffered  affliction  and 


am  resigned;  have  courted  fortune 
and  it  has  smiled  upon  me.  I  own 
this  great  house  and  these  beautiful 
grounds;  mv  bank  account  stands  on 
a  par  with  that  of  any  man  in  Chica- 
go; my  credit  is  unlimited;  I  have  a 
noble  son  and  a  dutiful  daughter, 
both  of  whom  I  love ;  there  is  nothing 
on  earth  that  I  cannot  have  for  the 
asking — and  yet  I  am  not  happy! 
Thouj:  h  I  have  secured  all  this  wealth, 
I  feel  that  there  is  something  more 
that  I  could  have  accomplished,  that 
would  have  brought  with  it  a  peace 
and  contentment  that  come  not  with 
riches.  What  £•<?<?</  have  I  done  in 
the  world?  True,  I  have  wronged 
no  man ;  every  dollar  that  I  have  got 
is  of  right  mine;  but  still,  still  I  can- 
not keep  back  the  ugly  thought  that 
a  man  may  be  honest,  and  honorable 
in  all  his  dealings,  and  yet  that  he 
can  be  held  accountable  for  deeds  of 
omission — for  something  that  he  might 
have  done  had  the  greed  of  gold  not 
absorbed  so  much  attention !" 

The  old  gentleman  puffed  away  at 
a  cigar,  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and 
continued : 

"  I  wonder  if  there  is  Hot  some- 
thing that  I  can  do  now  that  will  re- 
deem the  negligence  of  the  past?  I 
am  not  so  very  old,  nor  so  Very  fee- 
ble but  that  I  could  perform  almost 
any  task  that  many  a  younger  man 
would  stagger  under.  QJ,  -  wish  I 
could  go  out  into  the  lake  and 
at  the  peril  of  my  own  life  save  some 
one  from  drowning!  I  ;wish  some 
great  hotel  would  burn,  and  I  could 
rusk  through  smoke  and  flame  and 


rescue  a  dozen  imperiled  women  and 
children  from  a  horrible  death  !  But 
pshaw  i  ^what  an  old  sinner  I  am,  to 
be  wishing  for  the  destruction  of  the 
property  of  my  neighbors,  just  to 
give  me  the  opportunity  to  perform 
some  deed  of  valor  that,  ten  chances 
to  one,  I  would  not  have  the  nerve  to 
attempt!" 

Just  then  a  hack  drove  up  to  the 
door,  and  'interrupted  the  soliloquy. 

The  driver  opened  the  gate,  ap- 
proached the  house,  and  looking  at 
the  superscription  of  a  note  he  held 
in  his  hand,  and  then  at  the  number 
over  the  door,  said: 

"Does  Mr.  Alanson  Baldwin  live 
here?" 

"  That  is  my  name,  sir,"  said  Mr. 
B.,  rising. 

"  Then  this  note  must  be  for  you," 
remarked  the  hackman. 

Mr.  Baldwin  took  it,  glanced  at  the 
handwriting  with  some  curiosity,  for 
hackmen  were  not  in  the  habit  of 
bringing  him  communications,  and 
hastily  tore  open  the  envelope. 

The  note  read  as  follows : 

MR.  BALDWIN — My  Dear  Sir:  You 
told  me  once  that,  should  I  ever  need 
a  friend,  I  could  call  on  you.  Per- 
haps you  have  forgotten  it — perhaps, 
indeed,  you  have  lorgotten  me — but 
if  \ou  have  not,  and  if  you  still  feel 
for  me  the  friend  snip  you  once  did, 
I  would  like  to  see  you  as  soon  as 
possible.  I  cannot  come  to  you,  for 
I  am  in  trouble — I  am  in  prison!  II 
you  wish  to  see,  me  the  bearer  of  this 
note  will  convey  you  to  the  place 
where  I  am  confined.  If  you  do  not 
care  to  talk  with  a  man  who  is  under 
lock  and  key,  charged  with  a  crime, 
tear  up  these  few  lines,  and  forget,  il 
you  have  not  already  done  so,  that 
there  ever  existed  in  Chicago 

HENRY  HARPER. 

"  Harry  Harper !  Harry  Harper  in 
prison  !  My  God!  my  God  1" 

Mr.  Baldwin  arose  very  much  ex- 
cited, secured  his  hat,  and  was  about 
to  follow  the  hackman,  when  his 
daughter,  a  young  lady  of  about 
twtntv  ^ears — the  pride  of  his  heart 
and  the  joy  of  his  life — made  her  ap 
ie  at  the  door. 


She  saw  that  her  father  was  ex- 
cited, and  very  naturally  became 
alarmed  herself.  ^ 

"Father!"  she  said,  "What  has 
happened ?  What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Nothing  that  concerns  you,  iny 
dear,"  he  replied,  with  as  much  com- 
posure as  he  could  muster. 

"  Anything  that  has  so  excited  my 
father  must  concern  his  daughter," 
she  replied,  and  then,  with  an  implor- 
ing look,  she  added : 

"  Please  tell  me  what  the  trouble 
is,  father,  for  if  you  do  not  I  shall 
imagine  that  it  is  more  serious  than 
perhaps  it  really  is." 

"It  is  only  this,  Josephine:  A 
young  friend  of  mine  is  in  trouble, 
and  has  sent  for  me."  • 

"  Why  did  he  not  come  rather  than 
send  ?" 

44  Because  he  could  not." 

"Butw/^not?" 

"  Oh,  Josie  dear,  don' task  so  many 
questions.  I  am  anxious  to  get 
away." 

"Father,"  said  Miss  Baldwin,  seri- 
ously, "  I  think  you  ought  to  tell  me 
everything.  Where  is  this  man  you 
speak  of?" 

"  If  you  must  know  you  must,  I 
suppose — he  is  in  jail !" 

*  In  jail!  And  would  you,  my 
father,  intercede  in  behalf  oi  a  culprit 
— a  thief,  perhaps  ?" 

"Josephine,  you  do  not  know  what 
you  are  talking  about.  I  would  stake 
my  life  that  Harry  Harper  is  BO 
thief !" 

At  the  mention  of  this  name  the 
fair  young  girl  turned  deadly  pale, 
and  her  voice  trembled  perceptibly, 
but  the  old  gentleman  in  his  excite- 
ment and  hurry  did  not  notice  the 
change. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  remember  the 
young  man,"  she  said,  falteringly, 
"  was  he  not  once  a  clerk  in  your 
store  ?" 

u  Yes,  he  was — and  a  more  manly, 
honest,  honorable  boy  never  lived!" 

"  It  is  possible  that  he  may  be  ac- 
cused wrongfully,  father,  and  you  had 
better  go  to  him  at  once — go  quick^ 
father,  for  it  must  be  dreadful  to  be 


thrust  into  the  cell  of  a  prison ;  and, 
remember,  don V  leave  him  there .'" 

"  You  may  be  sure  I  will  not," 
said  Mr.  Baldwin,  as  he  stepped  into 
the  hack  and  was  driven  away. 

"Noble  girl,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"  how  quickly  her  tender  heart  was 
touched!" 

Josephine  Baldwin  gazed  longingly 
after  the  carriage  as  it  disappeared, 
and,  sad  at  heart,  was  about  to  enter 
the  house,  when  the  gate  was  again 
opened,  and  a  policeman  approached 
her. 

"Is  Mr.  Baldwin  at  home  ?'"  was 
the  question  asked  by  the  new- 
comer. 

"  No,  sir;  he  has  just  left." 

<(  Please  tell  him  that  I  want  to  see 
him  on  important  business,  and  that 
I  will  call  again  before  8  o'clock  in 
the  morning." 

"  I  am  his  daughter,  sir,  and  can 
transmit  to  him  any  message  you 
may  wish  to  leave." 

"  Oh,  the  morning  will  do  just  as 
well.  It  is  a  case  in  court  in  which 
he  is  a  witness — that's  all." 

The  girls  heart  throbbed  wildly, 
and  she  could  hardly  conceal  her  ag- 
itation, but  she  managed  to  appear 
calm  as  she  said  : 

"  Have  you  Jany  objection  to  in- 
forming me  of  the  nature  of  the 
'case?" 

"Oh,  not  at  all,  ma'am;  a  young 
chap  has  been  arrested  for  forging 
your  father's  name,  and  we  want  him 
as  a  witness  to  prove  that  the  signa- 
ture is  really  a  forgery." 

"I  will  tell  him,"  said  Josephne — 
but  the  words  almost  choked  her,  and 
she  staggered  to  a  sofa  in  the  front 
parlor,  sank  heavily  upon  the  velvet 
cushions,  and  moaned: 

"  Merciful  heaven  F 


CHAPTER  II. 

It  took  but  a  very  few  minutes  to 
convey  Mr.  Baldwin  from  his  resi- 
dence to  the  police  station. 

"I  would  like  to  see   Henry  Har- 
per, if  he  is  here,"said  the  old  gentle- 
man, as  he  approached   the   station 
keeper. 

w  We  have  a  prisoner  who  gave 


that  name,  but  we  have  orders  tha* 
he  shall  not  be  seen,"  was  the  re- 
spectful but  positive  reply. 

At  this  moment  the  sergeant  in 
charge  entered,  and,  recognizing  Mr. 
Baldwin,  said: 

"  I  did  not  expect  you  so  soon, 
Mr.  Baldwin;  it  is  scarcely  ten  min- 
utes since  the  messenger  left  here." 

"  It  takes  but  a  short  time  to  drive 
from  here  to  my  house  and  back," 
was  the  reply. 

"Drive?  My  messenger  went  on 
foot,"  said  the  sergeant,  somewhat 
mystified. 

"  It  was  a  hackman  who  brought 
the  note  to  me,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you.  I  sent 
you  a  verbal  message  by  a  policeman, 
and  did  not  write  a  note  nor  employ 
a  hackman." 

"  I  have  the  note  with  me  now," 
was  the  reply.  "  Here  it  is,  signed 
Henry  Harper." 

"The  devil!"  and  the  sergeant 
whistled  in  amazement,  but  quickly 
resumed  the  conversation  : 

'•  Mr.  Baldwin,  I  see  that  two  mes- 
sengers have  been  sent  to  your  house, 
one  by  me  and  the  other  by  the 
prisoner.  Let  me  inform  you,  there- 
fore thai,  your friend,  Mr.  Harry  Har- 
per, presented  a  forged  check  at  one 
of  the  national  banks,  this  afternoon, 
drew  one  thousand  dollars,  and  was 
tracked  down  and  arrested  shortly 
after  the  fraud  was  detected." 

"  I  do  not  believe  it,  sir!  I  will 
never  believe  it." 

"  Do  you  know  whose  name  was 
signed  to  the  check,  Mr.  Baldwin?" 

"  I  do  not,  and  I  do  not  care,"  was 
the  reply,  "  I  believe  if  Harry  Harper 
presented  it  he  came  by  it  honestly." 

"  Perhaps  you  will  change  your 
mind  when  you  are  told  the  name." 

"Tell  me  the  name,  then,  if  you 
will." 

"  It  was  your  own  /" 

The  old  gentleman  sank  down  into 
a  chair  perfectly  thunderstruck,  and 
deathly  pale,  but  he  did  not  speak 
for  at  least  two  minutes.  He  then 
asked,  in  cold,  steady  tones: 

"  Seargeant,  can  I  have  an  inter- 
view with  this  young  man  ?" 


Certain!* ,  sir,  if  you  wish  it,"  re- 
the   sergeant,   who   rather   rel- 
ishcd  the  old  man's  surprise. 
~,Witumt  another    word  Mr.   Bald- 
win was  conducted  to  the  cells  in  the 
t  Msement,  and,  at  his  own  request,  he 
w:ts  locked  up    with    the   party  ac 
cused 

Is  either  spoke  a  word  until  the 
turnkey  WES  out  of  earshot. 

Harry  Harper's  head  dropped,  and 
guilt  was  written  on  his  face,  as  plain 
ly  as  though  it  had  been  traced  with 
a  pen. 

Mr.  Baldwin  approached  him  and 
held  out  his  hand. 

"  Mv  poor  boy,"  he  said,  "  what 
tempted  you?" 

Harry  seized  the  proffered  hand, 
and  his  black  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
but  he  coutd  not  speak,  nor  could  he 
at  first  look  his  former  employer  in 
the  face. 

•*  I  see  that  you  know  all,  Mr 
Baldwin,"  said  Harry.  "Ihadhoped 
to  see  you,  and  make  such  explana- 
tion as  I  could,  before  the  officers 
should  have  an  opportunity  to  break 
to  you  the  unwelcome  news." 

"  I  knuw  already  that  you  present- 
ed a  forged  check  at  my  bank,  drew 
one  thousand  dollars  and  was  soon 
afterward  arrested,  and  this  is  all  I 
do  know.  Anything  that  you  may 
have  to  say  in  justification  or  exten- 
uation, I  shall  only  be  too  glad  -to 
listen  to.  Speak  frankly,  my  boy, 
and  tell  me  a//,  for  I  am  '  our  friend 
even  now,  after  what  you  have 
done." 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  defraud  you 
out  of  a  cent,  Mr.  Baldwin.  I  did 
forge  your  name  and  drew  the  money, 
and  when  arrested  I  was  on  the  way 
to  the  postoffice  with  a  letter  to  you, 
explaining  everything,  and  asking 
you  to  overlook  what  I  had  done,  and 
give  me  a  short  time  in  which  to  re- 
deem myself." 

The  old  merchant  had  listened  in- 
tently. 

u  If  what  you  have  told  me  is  true," 
he  said,  "  and  I  believe  it  is,  you 
must  still  have  that  letter  in  your 
pocket."  •- 

Without  a  word,  the  document  was 


placed  in  his  hand.     It  read   as   fol- 
lows: 

CHICAGO,  August  13,  1876. — MR. 
BALDWIN:  Whether  astonishment  or 
indignation  will  be  uppermost  in 
your  mind  when  you  receive  these 
lines,  I  know  not;  but  I  hegof  you  to 
read  them  carefully,  and  I  implore 
you  to  cover  my  transgression  wifti 
the  broad  mantle  of  charity,  if  you 
can  find  it  in  your  heart  to  do  so.  I 
will  tell  you  at  the  start  that  I  have 
signed  your  name  to  a  check  for 
$1,000,  and  that  I  have  drawn  the 
money  on  it.  This  confession  I  have 
no  doubt  will  greatly  shock  you,  for 
I  know  that  at  one  time,  when  I  was 
in  your  employ,  you  trusted  me  as 
one  man  seldom  trustsllanother,  and 
I  think  you  will  acknowledge  that  I 
never  betrayed  your  confidence. 
When  I  left  your  employ,  Mr.  Bald- 
win, I  contracted  associations  that 
have  eventually  led  me  to  crime.  I 
have  been  a  g  mbler,  a  man  about 
town,  a  frequenter  of  disreputable 
resorts — in  fact  a  "  fast  man  "  gen- 
erally— and  have  led  my  sell  to  believe 
that  the  time  would  never  come  when 
I  should  want  for  anything.  But 
what  little  I  had  fast])  melted  away, 
and  when  I  awoke  this  morning  I  had 
not  enough  money  to  purchase  a  de- 
cent breakfast.  A  few  days  ago,  a 
friend  or  mine — not  a  sporting  man — 
exp  ained  to  me  a  methed  by  which 
two  men  of  'ordinary  talent  could 
more  than  double!  one  thousand  dol- 
lars wiihin  thirty  days,  if  that  amount 
of  money  could  be  secured.  This 
morning,  when  hungry,  I  sought  out 
this  man  and  asked  him  if  the  claance 
was  still  open.  He  said  it  was,  and 
I  have  got  the  money.  If  I  do  not 
restore  every  farthing  of  it  with  in- 
terest, within  the  next  sixty  days, 
then  I  will  surrender  myself  to  you, 
and  you  can  either  turn  me  over  to 
justice  or  set  me  to  work  and  let  me 
earn  what  I  have  taken,  as  you  shall 
decide.  I  believe  you  would  have 
loaned  me  the  money,  but^I  had  not 
the  courage  to  ask  you  for  it.  Now, 
my  old  employer,  you  know  all  Do 
by  me  as  you  will.  It  will  be  easy 
for  you  to  have  me  apprehended,  if 


8 


you  so  decide;  bat  I  have  already 
begged  you,  for  clemency,  and  in 
closing  let  me  once  xnore  ask  you  to 
be  merciful,  to  be  trusting,  and  to 
believe  that  when  I  pledge  to  you 
full  restoration,  on  the  honor  of  a  man, 
you  will  believe  me,  and  give  me  an 
opportunity  to  fulfill  the  promises  I 
have  made. 

Hoping  for  the  best,  but  prepared 
to  meet  the  worst,  I  am  yours  un- 
worthily, HENRY  HARPER. 

"  You  have  done  wrong,  Harry," 
said  Mr.  Baldwin,  as  he  placed  the 
letter  in  his  pocket. 

"  I  can  make  no  defense,"  was  the 
reply,  "but  I  really  think  I  could 
havfi  replaced  the  money." 

11  Had  you  asked  me  for  it  you 
could  have  had  double  that  sum." 

The  young  man  made  no  reply. 
The  reproaches  of  his  betrayed  friend 
would  have  been  more  pleasant  than 
words  of  kindness. 

"  I  will  go  now — good  bye,  and 
God  bless  you,  Harry,' '  said  the  mer- 
chant, with  emotion. 

The  prisoner  leaned  against  the 
cold,  hard  wall  of  his  cell,  and  sobbed 
"good  bye." 

Mr.  Baldwin  then  summoned  the 
turnkey,  and  passed  out.  OQ  reach 
ing  the  office  he  said : 

"  Sergeant,  will  you  let  me  look  at 
the  check  that  you  claim  to  be 
forged?" 

"With  pleasure,"  was  the  reply, 
as  the  spurious  paper  was  handed  to 
the  man  whose  name  was  affixed  to 
it 

Mr.  B.  looked  at  it  critically. 

"  Is  this  the  only  check  of  mine  you 
have  in  your  possession?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"Certainly;  there  was  only  one 
forged  paper  presented,"  replied  the 
sergeant. 

"  Then  there  must  be  a  most  un- 
fortunate mist-ike." 

"  In  what  manner?"  queried  the 
amazed  officer 

' '  This  is  not  a  forged  check !  I 
signed  it  with  my  own  hand!" 

As  he  uttered  these  words  two  ot 
the  bank  officials  w'«o  had  come  to 
make  formal  complaint,  entered  the 


station,  and  at  once  recognized  Mr. 
Baldwin. 

The  explanation  astonished  them, 
for  both  were  prepared  to  swear  that 
the  check  was  a  forgery.  But  the  as- 
surance they  had  received  was  over- 
whelming evidence  of  their  stupidity, 
and  Harry  Harper,  when,  utterly  be- 
wildered, he  was  brought  from  the 
cell  and  set  at  liberty,  received  their 
most  humble  apologies,  which,  it  may 
be  added,  were  freely  accepted. 

Harry  and  the  merchant  left  the 
station  together,  the  money  that  had 
been  found  upon  his  person  having 
been  restored  to  him. 

The  first  words  Mr.  Baldwin  ut- 
tered were: 

"  I  never  told  a  "deliberate  lie  be- 
fore in  my  life,  but  I  "don't  regret  it 
—I'm  glad  of  it." 

Harry  was  about  to  reply. 

"Don't  speak!  Don't  offer  me  one 
word  of  thanks  1  I  feel  good  enough 
now!  I  want  to  see  you  to-nkht 
Come  to  my  house  at  8  o'clock,  and 
we  will  have  a  consultation  all 
alone." 

"  But  this  money,  Mr.  Baldwin — I 
must  return  it  to  you  now." 

"  You  shall  return  nothing  now  1  I 
am  in  a  hurry.  Good-bye  until  to- 
night !" 

With  these  words  he  abruptly  left 
the  man  he  had  saved  from  ruin. 

"  God  never  made  another  such  a 
man,"  was  Harry's  inward  thought, 
as  he  proceeded  on  his  way. 

CHAPTER  III. 

Mr.  Baldwin  started  on  his  waj 
happy,  and  yet  not  happy.  He  was 
glad  that  he  had  rescued  his  young 
friend  from  the  clutches  of  the  law, 
but  when  he  reflected  upon  the  na- 
ture otthe  crime,  his  brow  was  cloud- 
ed with  a  frown  that  came  very  near 
betokening  anger. 

"•  He  has  been  a  bad  boy — a  very 
bad  boy,"  he  thought,  "  but  there  is 
goodness  left  in  him  yet,  and  it  seems 
to  be  left  for  me  to  cultivate  it,  and 
develop  a  manhood  that  will  elevate 
him  high  above  the  associations  that 
have  wrought  his  ruin." 


Before  he  had  proce  ded  a  block, 
he  heardPaurried  footsteps  coming 
from  behind,  and  on  turning  he  was 
confronted  by  Harry,  who  seemed 
much  agitated. 

"Mr.  Baldwin!"  he  said,  and  then 
stammered. 

"  What  is  it,  my  boy?" 

"  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you." 

"  Speak  it  out,  then,  and  don't  be 
backward  about  it,  either." 

"It  is  that  you  will  not  mention 
what  has  occurred  to— to— to — any 
one"  • 

"Most  certainly  I  shall  not.  Out 
side  of  us  two  there  is  only  one  per- 
son in  the  world  that  knows  anything 
about  it,  and  she" — 

»"  Who?'  eagerly  asked  Harry, 
grasping  the  merchant's  arm. 

u  Why,  nobody  but  Josephine,  and 
all  she  knows  is  that  you  were  locked 
up  in  the  station  house." 

Harry  dropped  the  arm  that  he  had 
in  his  excitement  taken  hold  of. 

"Then  I  suppose  she  must  know 
all  ?"  he  said,  sorrowfully. 

"  It  can  do  no  harm  to  tell  her,  and 
my  son  must  know,  because  that  doc- 
ument will  pass  through  his  hands, 
and  he  would  detect  it  at  once  as  be- 
ing spurious." 

"  I  did  hope  that  it  could  be  kept 
from  both  of  them,"  he  said  in  reply, 
'*  but  if  they  must  know,  then  I  shall 
have  to  submit  to  the  humiliation." 

"  They  will  not  blame  you  nor  re- 
proach you,"  was  the  reply. 

At  that  moment  a  young  woman, 
dressed  very  neatly  but  not  gaudily, 
pss-ed  them,  and  Mr.  Baldwin 
thought  he  discovered  a  glance  oi 
recognition  exchanged  between  the 
girl  and  Harry. 

"  Do  you  know  that  lady  ?"  he 
asked,  after  she  had  got  well  away. 

"  I  have  seen  her  once  or  twice, 
but  I  cannot  say  that  I  am  very  well 
acquainted  with  her." 

u  I  have  a  curiosity  to  know  who 
she  ia,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Can't  you  introduce  me  to  her, 
Harry  r"  he  continued. 

u  Mr.  Baldwin,  you  do  not  know 
what  you  are  talking  about,"  was 
Harry's  response;  " that  lady,  as  you 


|  called  her,  is  one  of  the   moii  noto- 
|  rious  of  tht  many  abandoned  women 
of  Chicago.     She    is  nothing  but   a 
common  street-walker!" 

*'  I  suspected  as  much,  and  that  is 
the  very  reason  why  I  want  to  make 
her  acquaintance !" 

"  I  do  not  feel  much  like  joking, 
Mr  Baldwin,"  replied  Harry. 

'*  But  I  was  not  joking!" 

"  And  you  really  want  an  introduc- 
tion to  that  degraded  creature?" 

"  I  declare  to  you  now  that  I  ac- 
tually want  to  get  acquainted  with 
the  woman  who  has  just  passed  1" 

"  I  would  as  soon  think  ill  of  my 
mother  as  ol  you,  my  fri  end,"  said 
Harry,  seriously. 

"  Is  it  a  sin  or  a  crime  to  talk  with 
one  of  these  fallen  women  ?" 

The  speaker  was  never  more  in 
earnest  in  his  lite. 

*'|The  world  so  considers  it,"  was 
the  thoughtful  reply. 
^«%t  Then  let  the  word  so  consider  it! 
i  want  to  meet  that  woman,  and  I 
will.  You  told  me,  too,  only  a  mo- 
ment ago,  that  there  were  many 
more  of  them  in  Chicago.  Have  you 
any  idea  how  many  there  really  are?" 

"  I  should  say  that  therejwere  at 
least  one  or  two  thousand  of  them. 
Some  claim  that  there  are  as  many  as 
three  thousand,  altogether." 

"  Three  thousand  7  Is  it  possible 
that  there  are  in  Chicago  so  many 
poor  unfortunate  outcasts?  I  did 
not  dream  that  there  were  more  than 
a  hundred  of  them." 

*'  If  you  knew  as  much  of  Chieago 
as  I  do,  Mr.  Baldwin,  you  would  be 
astonished  at  nothing." 

"  Am  I  so  very  old  that  I  cannot 
learn  all  that  you  are  not  competent 
to  teach  ?" 

"  Tell  me  plainly  what  you  mean. 
I  do  not  understand  you." 

".I  mean  that  I  want  to  become  as 
familiar  with  sin  and  shame  and  crime 
as  you  are!  I  mean  that  I  want  you 
to  show  me  Chicago  as  it  is,  by  night 
and  by  day  /" 

"Have  you  thought  anything  of 
the  consequences  ?" 

"  What  consequences  V 


10 


**Have  you  considered  that  people 
wflltalk?" 

"  No,  I  have  not,  and  will  not. 
For  thirty  long  years  I  have  lived  in 
Chicago.  During  all  that  time  I  have 
never  committed  a  single  act  of 
which  I  am  ashamed.  I  have 
tried  to  deal  uprightly  by  my 
fellow  men.  The  breath  of  scandal 
has  never  tarnished  my  name  or 
sullied  my  fame.  No  man  can  point 
a  finger  at  any  act  of  mine  that  would 
bring  a  blush  to  a  maiden's  cheek. 
I£  with  this  shield  of  integrity,  this 
armor  of  truth,  I  cannot  go  where  I 
please,  then  society  is  a  sham,  relig- 
ion is  a  mockery,  and  a  good  name  is 
not  worth  having!" 

"But  I  cannot  see  any  object  in 
the  adventures  you  have  proposed," 
said  Harry,  who  had  grave  doubts 
about  the  advisability  of  such  a  pro- 
ceeding. 

"  My  object  is  a  good  one,  Harry 
Harper,  you  may  rest  assured  of  that. 
Why,  "it  was  only  this  after- 
noon that .  I  was  wishing  that  I 
could*  have  the  opportunity  to  do 
some  good  in  the  world,  and  as  I  am 
a  living  man  I  believe  Heaven  direc- 
ted you  to  my  door  to-day.  But  are 
there  no  other  sources  of  misery  that 
we  can  explore?" 

**  I  should  think  there  were,"  re- 
plied the  young  man,  with  emphasis, 
aim  he  continut  d : 

"  I  can  take  you  to  dens  of  deviltry 
and  show  you  vice  in  such  hideous 
shape  that  you  will  recoil  an  dismay, 
and  call  on  God  Almigh-y  to  shield 
jour  eyes  from  such  hateful  horrors  S" 

"When  shall  we  commence  our 
exploraticns?"  inquired  the  mer 
chant. 

"  At  any  time  that  you  may  wish," 
was  the  re-ply,  **|I  am  always  ready. 
But  I  will  not  content  that  you  shall 
go  as  you  now  are.  You  must  have 
a  disguise." 

"A  disguise?  Oh,  no;  I  intend  to 
do  nothiiig  that  1  am  not^  willing 
every  man  and  woman  in  this  city 
should  witness.  I  shall  need  no  dis- 
guise, Harry." 

"But  you  wv'//need   one,  though, 
ore  ihan  one.     Do  you  think  a 


well-dressed,  fine  appearing  gentle 
man  like  you  could  wade  about  in 
the  sewers  of  filth  and  gutters  of 
viciousness  that  abound  in  this  city  ? 
Why,  it  is  preposterous  !  A  hundred 
eyes  would  centre  on  you  at  once, 
and  the  fun  would  stop  instantly." 

"Very  well,  I  will  place  my  self  in 
your  hands  and  rely  on  you  for  pro- 
tection." 

li  You  may  be  sure  that  no  harm 
will  come  to"  you  when  Harry  Har- 
per is  with  you.  I  am  known  so  well 
in  all  these  places,  that  even  an  ac- 
quaintance with  me  is  a  sure  passport 
to  safety.  I  do  not  say  this  as  a  boast, 
though,  lor  I  am  really  ashamed  to 
confess  it;  but  it  is  better  that  you 
should  understand  Ihis,  for  you  will 
po6sibljr  have  to  face  scenes  that  will 
test  your  courage." 

"The  more  excitement  there  is, 
and  the  more  danger  I  shall  encoun- 
ter, the  better  it  will  please  me,"  re- 
marked Mr.  Baldwin;'  and,  now  that 
every  thing  is  settled,  let  me  repeat 
the  question,  when  shall  we  com- 
mence? To  night  ?" 

"Oh!  that  would  be  utterly  im- 
possible But  I  think  I  can  get  you 
readv  so  as  to  start  to-mcrrow  night." 

"Very  well,  then,  to-morrow  night 
letitbe/' 

"  I  imagine  that  one  short  evening 
will  sicken  you  of  this  enterprise, 
Mr.  Baldwin." 

"  No,  sir !  I  am  determined  to  con- 
front misery,  face  to  face!  I  sm  deter- 
mined to  dive  down  to  the  undercur- 
rent of  Chicago's  vice!  lam  Deter- 
mined to  view  crime  as  it  really  ex- 
uts!  -  And  if  I  can  allevia'e  the  dis- 
tresses of  one  aching  heart;  if  I  can 
lift  a  load  of  sorrow  from  one  sin- 
burdened  soul ;  if  I  can  penetrate  a 
cloud  of  glocm  and  let  a  little  sun- 
light into  the  existence  ot  one  cast- 
away, then,  my  dear  Harry,  I  shall 
ever  consider  that  your  temptation 
and  mislortune  was  but  an  indirect 
way  in  which  the  God  above  us  chose 
to  enlighten  my  mind,  and  place  in 
my  hands  the  rtins  by  wj.ich  my 
footsteps  should  te  guided  in  the 
good  work!" 

"Mr.  Baldwin,"  said   Harry,  with 


11 


an  enthusiasm  that  he  could  not  sup- 
press, •'  I  believe  you  are  the  best 
man  in  Chicago!  I  know  that  a  better 
one  never  breathed!  I  understand 
your  motive,  and  I  appreciate  your 
anxiety  to  commence  our  rambles  at 
once.  I  will  not  meet  you  at  your 
house  to-night,  for  we  understand 
each  other  now ;  but  I  will  see  you  to- 
morrow, at  8  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
and  from  that  on  every  night,  until 
you  shall  be  satisfied  of  what  you 
have  seen  of  CHICAGO  IN  CHUNKS!" 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  girl  who  had  recognized  Harry 
Harper  proceeded  down  State  street 
at  a'leisure  pace.  She  was  out  for 
some  vague  purpose  that  she  could 
hardly  herself  explain.  The  hour  was 
too  early  to  commence  "  business," 
even  were  she  so  inclined ;  and  on  that 
particular  day  she  felt  sad  and  gloomy 
— just  as  one  feels  when  the  t;  olues" 
eome  on,  and  solitude  is  far  preferable 
to  even  the  most  desirable  compan- 
ionship. 

Who  was  she  ? 

O  n  the  street  she  went  by  the  name 
of  *  Cranky  Ann."  Further  than  that 
will  be  revealed  in  a  future  chapter  of 
this  «  Tale  of  the  Town." 

What  was  she? 

If  the  reader  is  at  all  familiar  with 
Hfe  in  the  city,  no  explanation  need 
be  made.  Cranky  Ann  was  a  street- 
walker— *i  poor,  unfortunate  wretch, 
without  a  known  friend  in  the  wide 
world,  who  had  lost  all  womanly 
pride,  who  had  abandoned  all  preten- 
sions to  decency,  and  who  had  taken 
to  the  pave  as  a  last  desperate  re- 
source. She  was  regarded  as  one  of 
the  vilest  and  most  foul-mouthed  of 
the  street  syrens,  and  was  generally 
avoided  even  by  the  more  reputable 
of  her  own  class.  Spotted  by  the  po- 
lice, marked  by  the  city  sports, 
branded  by  her  rivals  in  sensuous 
sin,  poor  Cranky  had  a  hard  lot  of  it, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that 
bitter  thoughts  surged  through  her 
brain  as  she  reflected  upon  her  ac- 
cursed condition. 

'*  There's  a  boy  who's  always  got  a 
kind  look  and  a  kind  word,"  she 


mused,  as  she  walked  along,  alter 
passing  Harry  and  Mr.  Bald  win ;  and 
her  thoughts  run  like  this: 

"  I  wonder  what  kind  of  a  man  he 
is,  anyway?  I  see  him  everywhere, 
and  yet  I  never  heard  anything  bad 
about  him.  He  can't  be  a  thief,  nor 
a  common  loafer,  nor  a  confidence 
man,  and  I  know  he  is  no  blackguard. 
Perhaps  he's  a  gambler.  But  whatever 
he  is  or  does,  he's  as  true  a  gentle- 
man as  there  is  in  Chicago,  I'll  swear 
to  that.  Instead  of  a  sneer,  and  an 
insulting  word,  when  he  meets  me, 
— such  as  many  a  would-be  gentleman 
sometimes  uses — he  has  a  pleasant 
smile,  and,  when  heisalone,  words  of 
kindness.  I  like  him — I  like  his  style 
— and  some  day,  perhaps,  old  Cranky 
Ann,  as  they  call  me,  can  do  a  good 
:urn  for  him.  II  that  time  does  come, 
Harry  Harper  shall  know  that  an  old 
street-walker,  hardened  as  she  is  in 
sin,  heartless  as  she  is  considered  to 
be,  is  not  entirely  destitute  of  the 
gratitude  that  even  the  wild  animals 
of  the  forest  feel  towards  those  whose 
favors  they  have  not  sought  in  vain. 
Yes,  yes!  Only  give  the  old  girl  a 
chance,  and  see  what  she'll  do  for  one 
she  likes ! " 

"  Say  !  Cranky !  See  here ! ' '  This 
salutation  interrupted  the  train  of 
thought  into  which  the  courtesan  had 
fallen,  and  on  looking  up  she  beheld 
a  man  she  knew  well,  but  who  had 
not  spoken  to  her  in  a  long,  long  time. 
His  name  was  Jack  Dunning,  and  he 
was  a  man  of  some  means,  who  was 
shrewd  enough  to  keep  what  he  had, 
and  to  never  make  any  venture  where 
the  chances  were  not  five  to  one  in  his 
favor. 

'  What  do  you  want  of  me,  Jack 
Dunning?"  was  Cranky  Ann's  reply; 
uyou  scarcely  look  at  me,  now-a-days, 
though  there  was  a  time  when  you 
were  not  quite  so  distant  nor  so 
cold." 

"  Well,  Crank,  old  girl,  times  have 
changed! ' ' 

"  I  know  it!  Times  have  changed 
since  you  and  I  first  met!  You  were 
then  exactly  the  same  as  you  are  now 
— a  wild,  reckless  man  about  town, 
whose  known  sins  were  kindly  over- 


12 


looked,  and  whose  society  was  sought 
after  the  more  because  of  his  repu- 
tatien  as  a  libertine !  But  in  my  case 
— great  God !  what  a  difference. 
Then  I  was  courted  and  carressed  be- 
cause they  called  me  beautiful,  and 
believed  me  chaste;  but  when  scan- 
dal's shafts  were  hurled  at  me,  when 
envious  enemies  whispered  their 
poisonous  insinuations,  then  mv  own 
sex  turned  upon  me  without  giving 
me  an  opportunity  for  defense,  and 
the  too- willing  world  gave  eager  ear 
to  all  that  the  traitorous  tongue  of 
malice  could  invent!" 

Her  listener  grew  impatient.  He 
had  not  hailed  her  for  the  purpose  of 
hearing  a  reminiscence  of  the  past; 
therefore,  interrupting  her,  he  said, 
touching  her  shoulder: 

"  I  know  all  that  you  would  say, 
Crank ;  but  I  have  a  little  business 
that  you  can  do,  and  in  doing  it,  put 
money  in  your  purse!  If  you  will 
step  into  this  ^restaurant,  where  we 
can  have  a  private  talk,  I  will  explain 
myself  fully." 

The  two  entered  an  Italian  saloon, 
passed  through  the  laced  door  in  the 
center,  and  took  seats  in  a  conven- 
iently dark  and  obscure  corner.  Jack 
ordered  "refreshments"  for  two,  and 
then  said,  turning  face  to  face  with 
his  companion: 

"  Crank,  you  and  I  know  each  other 
as  well  as  anybody  does,  and  we  un 
derstand  each  other,  too.  I  take  it 
that  you  are  not  very  well  fixed.  You 
don't  tog  out  as  well  as  you  used 
to." 

"  I've  got  a  dollar  bill  and  a  few 
nickles,  and  that's  every  blessed  cent 
that  stands  between  me  and  starva- 
tion!" 

"  Would  you  like  to  make  a  stake, 
Crank?  " 

"  What  do  I  walk  the  streets  for?  " 
was  the  reply,  in  a  voice  that  sound- 
ed harsh  and  bitter. 

"  But  you  might  do  better  than  to 
walk  the  streets.  You  are  a  woman 
of  some  education,  I  have  been  told, 
and  I  know  that  you  are  as  shrewd 
and  quick,,  in  thought  and  action,  as 
any  old  veteran  upon  the  streets." 

"  I  did  have  an  education  once,  and 


experience  has  taught  me  much  in  the 
other  way,"  was  the  reply;  "but 
what  was  it  that  you  just  hinted  at? 
Tell  me  any  way  by  which  I  can  make 
a  few  dollars,  and  if  the  risk  is  not 
too  great  Cranky  Ann  is  your  con- 
federate 1  I  have  got  to  be  a  desper- 
ate woman  now,  and  there  is  nothing 
that  I  would  not  do  for  gold  or  green- 
backs!" 

"Give  me  your  hand,  Crank; 
you're  the  queen  of  trumps!"  said 
Jack,  and  the  two  shook  hands, 
touched  glasses,  and  drank  the  bev- 
erage that  had  been  ordered. 

"  I'm  glad  I  met  you,"  he  contin- 
ued, speaking  low  and  guardedly, 
"  for  I've  got  a  little  work  for  you  to 
do — something  that  will  require  not 
only  a  desperate  woman,  but  one  of 
quick  wit  and  ready  cunning." 

"  You  needn't  keep  me  in  suspense, 
Jack;  just  tell  me  what  you  are  driv- 
ing at!" 

"I'm  in  love,  Crank!" 

"Withw<?/"  she  inquired,  mock- 
ingly. 

"  Scarcely!  but  with  the  handsom- 
est woman  in  Chicago,  and  an  heir 
ess." 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  wish  to  reter 
to  me  as  to  character!" 

"  Pshaw!  I  want  you  to  work  for 
me,  for  pay!  I  want  to  hire  you  to  do 
anything  and  everything  that  I  shall 
require.  The  lady  that  I  love  is  at 
this  moment  an  entire  stranger;  I 
doubt  if  she  ever  set  eyes  on  me  in 
her  life;  but  I  have  seen  her,  and/ 
am  determined  she  shall  be  mine!  Do 
you  understand  me?" 

' '  I  understand  what  you  have  said ; 
go  on,"  was  the  reply. 

*•  I  want  to  win  her,  if  I  can ;  if  I 
cannot,  then  your  head  and  mine  must 
plot  together  to  attain  the  grand  re- 
sult! When  I  saw  you  coming,  a  few 
minutes  ago,  I  said  to  myself, 
'there's  the  woman  that  I  want!'  Now 
you  know  it  all,  and  from  this  on  you 
are  in  my  employ,  at  good  round 
wages.  First,  you  must  manage  to 
get  me  introduced  under  the  most 
.avorable  circumstances.  But  you 
can't  do  it  in  the  character  ot  Cianky 
Ann,  the  street- walker.  Oh,  no!  You 


must  be  a  nice,  genteel,  weiHhy  lady! 
You  must  wash  off  your  paint,  throw 
aside  your  flashy  dresses  and  hats 
and  shawls  and  cloaks,  and,  attired  in 
the  extreme  of  fashion,  with  ward- 
robe and  jewels  of  the  finest  quality, 
palm  yourself  off  as  some  distin- 
guished lady  from  abroad.  Thf-re  are 
thousands  of  them  who  could  not  ap- 
pear as  well  as  you  can,  if  you  only 
have  the  chance." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Cranky,  semi 
seriousl   , "  I  will  take  my  dollar  and 
odd  cents   and  go  right  off  and  buy 
aU  the  articles  yon   have   been  good 
enough  to  mention! " 

u  Oh,  I'll  not  be  backward  with  the 
stamps,"  smilingly  responded  the  in- 
fatuated man.  "  You  can  have  all 
t-hat  will  be  required.  The  diamonds, 
of  course,  I  shall  expect  you  to  re- 
turn when  the  curtain  drops  on  the 
last  act — all  the  rest  you  can  retain, 
together  with  your  tees.  Now,  then, 
Crank,  J  want  you  too  sleep  over  what 
I  have  said,  and  try  to  dream  out 
some  way  by  which  victory  will  be 
easy  and  failure  impossible.  Think 
over  it  deeply ;  turn  it  over  in  your 
mind  in  all  its  phases  and  all  its  com- 
plications. I  will  meet  you  here  at 
this  hour  ^vuyrcwt,  prepared  for  ac- 
tion^ with  the  sinews  of  war  in  my 
pocket-book,  and  then  we  can  come 
down  to  business  without  further  de- 
lay. Will  you  be  ready?" 

**  Cranky  Ann  is  always  ready  for 
business!  '  was  the  significant  reply ; 
"but  I  sa}%  Jack,  if  you  can  spare  a 
fber,  or  a  tfnner,  I  should  feel  ever  so 
much  more  like  dreaming  luck  to  you 
and  your  cause!" 

The  schemer  smiled,  and  handed 
over  ten  dollars  before  he  spoke. 

"  There,"  said  he, "  don't  that  show 
that  I'm  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  You  bet  it  does,  Jack,  old  boy," 
replied  the  woman,  and  the  saw-buck 
was  at  once  deposited  in  the  locality 
that  usually  serves  as  a  hiding-place 
for  money  among  the  sinning  sister- 
hood. 

*  You  won't  get  drunk  on  that, 
Crank  ?"f 

"  That  is  one  of  th«  pleasures  that 
I  seldom  indulge  in,  Jack.  No,  you 


14 

needn't  worry  about  that.  I  will  be 
on  hand  to-morrow  with  all  my  facul- 
ties in  prime  order." 
'  The  two  then  left  the  restaurant, 
and  parted  at  the  door,  the  man  pro- 
Nceeding  north  and  the  woman  south. 
"  I  don't  exactly  know  what  Jack 
Dunning  means,"  thought  Cranky 
Ann,  "and  I  don't  much  care,  either! 
If  he  has  money,  and  will  spend  it  as 
freely  as  he  has  premised,  I  will  de 
what  I  can  for  him,  unless  he  asks  too 
much;  but  if  he  thinks  that,  because 
I  am  a  poor  girl  on  the  town,  and  have 
had  a  hard  time  of  it  battling  against 
a  cruel  and  relentless  fate,  he  can  use 
me  to  deceive  and  ruin  one  who  has 
not  yet  been  branded  by  the  cucsed 
mark  of  hell,  he  will  find  that  he  has 
made  a  most  injudicious  selection  in 
making  Cranky  Ann  his  tool.1,*  I  am 
a  chiid  of  fate — a  creature  of  destiny 
— an  outcast — a  deceiver — a  wretch 
who  decoys  and  entraps  and  ruins 
men  without  conscience  and  without 
mercy !  But  Jack  Dunning's  money 
cannot  hire  me  to  drag  down  another 
woman  to  my  own  level!  I  will  meet 
him,  I  will  take  the  pay  that  he  of- 
fers me,  I  will  promise  to  do  any- 
thing that  he  asks — but  in  the  end 
let  him  beware  that  he  does  not  get 
the  double  cross?1*, 

And  the  street- walker  sauntered  on, 
communing  with  her  own   thoughts. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Harry  Harper  never  worked  so 
hard  in  his  life  as  he  did  on  the  day 
succeeding  that  on  which  our  story 
opens.  At  an  eariy  hour  he  held  a 
short  interview  with  Mr.  Bald 
win,  the  details  of  which  need 
not  be  specified  here.  The  mer- 
chant took  no  third  party  into  his 
confidence.  Even  his  daughter  and 
son  were  not  consulted,  and  it  was 
his  special  desire  that  neither  of 
them  should  know  of  the  rather 
equivocal  (as  the  straight- laced 


*A  sla£g  term,  as  used  in  thia  instance, 
meaning  that,  while  he  thinks  her  working 
in  his  interests,  and  pays  her  for  it,  she  will, 
in  fact,  be  doing  all  that  she  can  to  defeat 
hia  plans. 


15 


would  term  it,;  adventures  which  he 
had  determined  to  undertake.  His 
intentions  were  strictly  honorable. 
He  was  :i  man  of  unimpeachable  in- 
tegrity, who  had  never  in  his  whole 
life  committed  an  act  that  he  would 
hide  from  his  fellow  man.  The  chance 
that  brought  him  to  Harry  Harper  in 
prison,  had  opened  his  eyes  to  some- 
thing that  he  had  never  dreamed  of. 
The  lact  that  so  much  of  sin  and ' 
wretched-ness  existed  within  ear- 
shot of  his  own  home,  aroused  in  his 
heart  a  determination  to  become 
thoroughly  conversant  with  vice, 
with  the  view  of  doing  what  he  could 
to  alleviate  distress,  and  lead  the 
erring  to  better  ways.  A  suite  of 
rooms  'down  town  were  rented,  for 
consultation  and  other  purposes,  and 
before  night  many  purchases  had 
been  made  that,  to  those  not  know- 
ing what  they  were  to  be  used  for, 
would  appear  to  be  very  suspicious 
transactions.  *  * 

Between  7  and  8  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  Cranky  Ann,  attired  in  her 
most  flashy  garments,  slowly  walked 
north  on  State  street,  taking  particu- 
lar pains  to  look  every  man  she  met 
full  in  the  face,  and  manifesting  an 
e'ntire  willingness  to  return  with  in- 
terest any  familiarity  that  passers 
might  indulge  in. 

"Hell!  there's  Harry  Harper  over 
on  the  corner,"  she  sfctid,  as  she 
reached  Van  Buren  street.  "  That's 
twice  I've  seen  him  to-day.  Wonder 
what  he's  waiting  for  ?  " 

Just  as  she  had  completed  this 
sentence,  (in  her  mind,)  she  came 
very  near  colliding  with  a  plain  ap- 
pearing man,  whose  flowing  beard 
was  slightly  springled  with  gray,  and 
whose  looks  betrayed  the  fact  that 
he  was  from  the  rural  districts. 

"  Beg  pardon,  ma'am,"  he  stam- 
mered, "  I  didn't  mean  to  get  in  your 
way." 

"  It's  I  that  ought  to  apologize," 
said  Cranky,  halting  and  bestowing 
upon  the  granger  a  benevolent 
smile. 

"  Oh,  no  !  I'm  a  blundering  old 
ainner,  and  I  ought  to  be  ashamed 


of   myself  for  almost  running   over 
such  a  lovely  young  lady." 

"  You  flatter  me,  sir,"  said  the 
girl,  with  a  desperate  effort  to  blush 
and  appear  contused. 
' ;"  Indeed  I  do  not  1  Why,  in  oui 
town  a  gal  like  you  would  set  all  the 
boys  and  half  the  old  men  stark 
mad  !  But  you  must  excuse  my 
familiarity.  It's  my  way,  you  know. 
I'm  always  rough,  and  have  got  no 
more  manners  than  a  hedge-hog." 

"  Don't  mention  it,  sir,"  she  re- 
plied, pleasantly.  "  To  tell  the  truth, 
I've  taken  quite  a  liking  to  you — 
you  look  so  good,  and  so  kind." 

"  Good  !  kind  !  Why  I'm  a  regu- 
lar old  boar.  The  women  all  hate 
me!.' 

"  But  /  don't  hate  you,  sir !" 

The  farmer  did  not  reply  at  once., 
but  gazed  with  undiguised  admira- 
tion upon  the  painted  street  beauty. 

"  If  you  have  no  objections  I  will 
walk  a  block  or  so  with  you,"  he 
said,  hesitatingly,  fearful  of  a  re- 
pulse. 

"I  really  shall  feel  honored  in 
having  such  an  escort,"  replied 
Cranky,  who  felt  that  her  game  was 
as  gocd  as  bagged  already. 

"  But  I  was  only  walking  out  to 
secure  the  cool  evening  air,"  she  con- 
tinued, "and  as  it  is  getting  a  little 
late  I  think  I  will  return  to  my  room, 
two  or  three  blocks  from  here.  Are 
you  going  that  way  ?" 

"  Well,  yes,  I  was  walking  in  thati 
direction,"  he  said,  and  they  proceed- 
ed together  southward  leisurely  and 
quite  lover-like. 

It  was  easy  to  be  seen  that  the  far- 
mer was  "struek." 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  are  a  married 
lady?"  he  inquired,  as  they  proceed- 
ed. 

"No,  sir,  I  am  only  a  working 
girl,"  replied  Cranky,  "  and  rent  a 
furnished  lodging  room  on  this 
street." 

"  Now  that  we  are  a  little  bit  ac- 
quainted, perhaps  you  will  allow  me 
to  call  on  you  at  your  home,"  he  ren- 
tured  to  remark. 

The  artful  syren  hesitated. 

"  Would    it    not   cause    people  to 


16 


talk?"  she  stammered,  in  a  confused 
sort  of  way. 

"  Oh,  no ;  you  can  say  that  I  am 
your  father,  or  your  grandfather,  for 
I  am  old  enough  for  that." 

"  Well,  il  you  think  it  would  not  be 
Improper,  you  may  come  with  me, 
and  then  we  can  converse  quietly, 
where  no  rude  passers  can  stare  at 
us,  as  I  have  noticed  some  of  them 
do  while  we  have  been  walking  along 
the  street." 

"You  are  a  charming  little  puss  of 
a  girl,"  exclaimed  the  delighted  far- 
mer, "  and  I  shall  always  bless  the 
hour  in  which  I  made  that  awkward 
blunder,  and  stumbled  into  your  ac- 
quaintance !" 

He  had  taken  her  by  the  hand,  and 
his  pressure  of  hers  was  a  little  war- 
mer than  that  of  ordinary  friendship. 
It  need  not  be  remarked  that  Cranky 
did  not  resent  his  approaches,  or 
withdraw  her  soft  and  slender  fin- 
gers. 

"Why,  we  are  here  already!"  she 
said, affecting  surprise.  "Really,  time 
rushes  when  one  is  in  agreeable  com- 
pany. We  will  go  right  up  to  my 
cosy  little  room,  if  you  wish!" 

"I  am  delighted!"  he  exclaimed, 
as  she  entered  the  hallway. 

As  he  was  about  to  follow,  he  felt 
a  tight  grip  upon  his  arm,  and  Harry 
Harper  whispered  in  his  ear : 

•*  Beware  /    She's  the  devil!" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

When  Mr.  Baldwin  reached  home, 
after  having  been  the  means  of  res- 
cuing his  young  friend  from  a  po- 
sition that  certainly  would  have  en- 
tailed severe  punishment,  had  he  felt 
so  inclined,  he  was  met  at  the  door 
by  his  daughter.  She  was  as  pale, 
almost,  as  a  corpse,  andjher  eyes  bore 
evidence  of  an  anxiety  she  had  never 
betore  felt,  and  could  not  conceal,  if 
ghe  would. 

"Well,  father,"  she  said,  "what 
success  ?" 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right,  Josie." 
"  But  what  was  the  matter  ?"* 
"  Nothing  of  any  consequence." 
"  Oh,  now,  father   dear,  <Jo  tell  me 
all.     You  have  not  been   in  Uw 


it  of  keeping  secrets  from  your  daugn- 
ter.  Was  Mr.  Harper  really  locked 
up  ?  Was  he  confined  in  one  of  those 
horrid  cells  that  I  have  read  about  in 
the  papers  ?" 

"  Yes,  Josie,  I  found  Harry  locked 
up." 

"  And  did  you  succeed  in  libera- 
ting him  ?" 

The  young  lady  said  this  very  ear- 
nestly, and  her  eyes  were  rivited 
with  intense  anxiety  upon  the  face 
of  her  father. 

"  Yes — he  was  speedily  released 
as  soon  as  I  got  there." 

Had  he  been  closely  observing  the 
girl,  he  would  have  noticed  a  sigh  of 
reliei  escape  from  the  bosom  of  his 
child.  But  his  thoughts  were  else  • 
where,  and  he  took  no  notice  of  Jose- 
phine's agitation. 

"  But  you  have  not  told  me  what 
he  was  arrested  for,"  she  said,  after 
a  pause. 

"  If  you  insist  on  knowing  I  can't 
see  that  there  will  be  any  harm  in 
telling  you,  my  child,  but  it  must  go 
no  larther — it  must  be  kept  a  sacred 
secret  with  you,  your  brother  and 
myself,"  said  Mr.  Baldwin,  with 
great  gravity. 

"  You  are  not  afraid  to  trust  to  my 
discretion?"  she  inquired. 

"  No — otherwise,  I  should  not  tell 
you,"  he  replied. 

The  merchant  then  revealed  to  his 
daughter  all  that  the  reader  already 
knows,  and  in  conclusion  handed  her 
the  note  that  Harry  had  started  to 
mail  when  arrested. 

Her  hand  trembled  perceptibly 
when  she  took  it,  and  her  eyes  were 
moist  with  tears.  After  reading  the 
letter  carefully  she  handed  it  back, 
but  did  not  speak. 

"  Do  you  think  I  did  right  it  de- 
claring the  check  to  be  genuine?" 
he  asked. 

"  Whether  right  or  wrong,  it  was 
a  noble  act — one  that  I  hope  my  dear 
good  father  will  never  regret,"  was 
her  enthusiastic  reply. 

"  It  was  very  wrong  for  Harry  to 
do  as  he  did,  don't  you  th  nk  so, 
Josie  ?" 

**  I  would  not  have  believed  him 


capable  of  such  an  act,"  she  replied, 
"and  yet  he  seems  to  have  been^?#- 
est  in  his  crime,  if  such  a  thing  were 
possible.  He  seems  to  have  taken 
that  rash,  reckless,  dangerous  course 
as  merely  another  method  of  borrow 
ing  the  money  from  you.  Don't  you 
see,  father  that  you  could  not  have 
lost  a  cent  ?  You  would  have  re- 
ceived his  letter  before  the  check 
could  have  been  detected  as  a  for- 
gery. Had  you  felt  so  inclined  you 
could  have  had  him  arrested,  and 
would  have  recovered  every  cent  of 
the  money,  and  he  only  would  have 
been  the  sufferer.  It  was  foolish,  it 
was  wicked,  it  was  inexcusable,  and 
yet  there  was  something  manly  about 
it — don't  you  think  so,  father?" 

Without  intending  to  do  so,  the 
girl  had  uttered  a  powerful  argument 
in  favor  of  a  man  who  had  deliberate 
ly  perpetrated  a  crime  that  would 
have  consigned  him  to  prison  for  a 
term  of  years. 

"  Yes,  I  really  believe  Harry  would 
have  faithfully  kept  the  promise  he 
made  in  his  letter,"  replied  the  mer- 
chant, "  and  I  am  glad  that  you  ap- 
prove of  my  course.  I  could  have 
spurned  his  protestations  of  honest 
intentions ;  I  could  have  appeared  in 
court  and  testified  against  him;  I 
could  have  sent  him  to  the  peniten- 
tiary, and  when  his  term  of  impris- 
onment had  expired,  what  would  be 
his  future?  Why,  he  would  be  a  bold, 
desperate  man,  ready  for  any  deed  of 
wickedness.  He  is  a  brave  young 
man,  and  has  a  true  heart — but  when 
the  world  sets  its  face  against  such 
as  he,  they  become  totally  changed 
in  nature,  and  knowing  that  no  friend- 
ly hand  is  ready  to  greet  them,  they 
plunge  into  vice  in  its  most  revolt- 
ing features,  and  not  unlrequently 
become  the  very  worst  of  outlaws. 
Harry  Harper  might  have  ended  his 
days  upon  the  scaffold,  had  I  decided 
to  deal  rigorously — and  in  all  this 
great  city  no  one  would  have  blamed 
me !  Would  I  have  slept  better 
nights?  Would  my  eonscience  have 
felt  easier  than  it  does  to-night  ? 
No  !  I  tell  you,  Josephine,  that  so- 
ciety deals  too  rigorously  with  those 


who  transgress.  It  is  better  to  lift 
up  than  to  kick  down  the  erring. 
Instead  of  sending  Harry  Harper  to 
ruin,  I  have  determined  to  make  a 
man  of  him  1  I  will  look  after  him. 
I  will  protect  him  I  will  encourage 
him.  I  will  help  him.  And  if  the 
good  Lord  permits  me  to  live  long 
enough,  I  will  yet  see  him  honored, 
trusted  and  respected  in  this  commu- 
nity 1" 

"  In  all  this  world  I  do  not  believe 
there  is  another  such  a  good  man  as 
my  dear  father,"  was  the  only  reply 
made  by  the  eager  listener,  as  she 
put  her  arms  around  his  neck  and 
kissed  him. 

"  Now,  Josie,  we  will  talk  no  more 
of  this  matter,"  said  Mr.  Baldwin, 
"  but  there  is  something  on  an  an- 
other subject  that  will  probably  in- 
terest you.  You  will  not  see  me  af- 
ter to  night  for  some  time." 

"  Why,  father !  Are  you  going 
away  ?" 

"Yes — justness  will  call  me  from 
home  for  a  brief  period — I  cannot 
say  how  long.  To-morrow  I  will 
bid  you  good  bye,  until  we  meet 
again." 

The  merchant  had  frequently  been 
called  away  on  business,  and  the 
information  that  he  imparted  to  his 
daughter  did  not  produce  any  sur- 
pris. 

When  Josephine  Baldwin  reached 
her  room,  her  mind  was  convulsed 
with  peculiar  emotions.  And  in  her 
prayer  that  night,  sne  did  not  forget 
to  invoke  the  blessing  of  high  heaven 
upon  one  of  the  characters  in  this  ro- 
mance 1 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Cranky  Ann's  usually  acute  ear  did 
not  catch  the  whispered  words  of 
Harry  Harper;  otherwise  her  good 
opinion  of  that  amiable  young  man 
might  have  undergone  somewhat  of 
a  change.  But  her  escort  did  hear 
them,  very  distinctly,  and  for  an  in- 
stant he  hesitated.  The  feeling  of 
temerity,  however,  was  but  momen- 
tary, and  when  Cranky  unlocked  the 
door  and  invited  him  into  a  neatly 


18 


turntslied  room,  he  had  every  appear- 
ance ot  being  the  verdant,  unsuspec- 
ting farmer  that  the  wicked  girl  had 
taken  him  for. 

The  intelligent  reader  has  undoubt- 
edly guessed  that  this  old  farmer  was 
an  old  fraud,  as  indeed  he  was.  Alan 
son  Baldwin,  the  wealthy  merchant, 
had  assumed  a  thorough  disguise, 
and,  having  persuaded  himself  that 
there  was  something  unusual  in  the 
history  and  character  of  the  street- 
walker who  had  first  attracted  his  at 
tent  ion,  himself  and  Harry  had  sta- 
tioned themselves  at  a  point  where 
they  knew  she  would  pass,  the  "  ac- 
cidental" blunder  being  a  precon- 
certed plan.  In  the  early  part  of  the 
day  Mr.  Baldwin  had  taken  leave  of 
his  son  and  daughter,  who  supposed 
that  he  was  to  leave  for  the  east  for 
business  purposes.  Instead  of  taking 
a  train,  he  at  once  repaired  to  the 
furnised  room  down  town  that  had 
been  rented  by  Harry,  and  during  the 
day  that  handsome  young  sport  dil- 
igently instructed  the  ignorant  mer- 
chant concerning  the  dark  and  tricky 
ways  of  the  gay  world  he  was  about 
to  explore. 

Though  Harry's  description  of  low 
life  was  not  exaggerated  in  the  least, 
the  old  man  could  not  and  would  not 
believe  them.  He  did  not  think  it 
possible  that  such  degradation  and 
wretchedness  could  exist  in  the  heart 
of  Chicago,  within  sight  and  hearing 
ot  the  whole  people,  and  yet  not  one 
in  ten  ot  the  reputable  citizens  know 
anything  about  it  The  descriptions 
that  fell  from  the  lips  of  Harry  only 
made  him  more  determined  than  ever 
to  continue  in  the  pursuit  of  knowl- 
edge. H<>  was  hungry  for  the  least 
of  misery  that  was  being  pr.  pared 
for  him.  The  quick-witted  young 
man  whom  chance  had  thrown  in  h  s 
way,  had  also  busied  himself  in  pro- 
curing suitable  disguises,  and  at  the 
time  Cranky  Ann  was  encountered 
his  ov.rn  children  would  have  passed 
Alanson  Baldwin  without  a  second 
look.  His  disguise  was  thorough 
and  complete.  < 

As  has  been  stated,  he  hesitated 
for  an  ins  ant.  Not  having  been  ac- 


customed to  excitement,  never  hav- 
ing stood  in  the  paths  of  danger,  his 
courage  had  never  been  put  to  so  se- 
vere a  test  before,  and  a  vague  sense 
of  danger  sent  a  chill  through  his 
veins.  There  really  was  no  dangei 
at  all,  except  that  he  would  forget  the 
warnings  that  had  been  given  during 
the  day,  and  permit  Cranky,  with 
some  well-told  story  of  suffering, 
pull  the  wool  over  his  eyes, — an  op- 
eration that  she  could  perform  as 
skillfully  as  any  woman  that  ever 
trod  the  pave. 

But  the  chill  rapidly  passed  away, 
and  the  two  quickly  found  themselves 
in  a  neat  little  parlor,  to  which  was 
attached  by  folding  doors  a  bed- 
room. 

Cranky,  little  dreaming  that  she 
was  the  "  sucker,"  or  that  she  was 
being  imposed  upon,  invited  the  old 
gentleman  to  a  seat  in  an  easy  chair, 
while  she  occupied  a  sofa  on  the  oth- 
er side  of  the  room,  with  the  inten- 
tion ol  keeping  up  the  working  girl 
illusion,  and  yielding  at  last  only 
upon  the  most  impassioned  en 
treaties  (coupled  with  greenbacks) 
of  the  supposed  old  toot  whom  she 
had  so  easily  entrapped. 

"It  would  be  more  sociable  and 
agreeable  could  we  both  occupy  the 
same  sofa,"  vaid  the  visitor,  rising 
and  advancing. 

4  Oh,  no!  that  would  be  highly  im- 
proper! ' 

Cranky  majestically  motioned  him 
awa\,  but  the  venerable  gentleman 
continued  to  advance,  and  as  he  did 
so  said : 

"My  dear  young  waman,  I  mean 
you  no  harm,  and  if  you  would  throw 
off  the  mask  you  are  using,  you  would 
bear  none.  I  will  deceive  you  no 
longer.  I  am  not  what  you  think  I 
am.  I  know  you — you  are  called 
Cranky  Ann.  the  street- walker!" 

"  My  God!  Collared  again!"  ex- 
claimed Crank,  vehemently,  and  tears 
streamed  from  the  poor  outcast's 
eys,  as  she  continued: 

"  I  know  )  ou  now,  too  !  You  are 
a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing!  You  are 
acting  a(mean,  a  dirty,  a  cowardly 
part!  /am  a,  prostitute — God  for- 


give  me  !  You  are  worse  than  I  am  ! 
Had  you  been  what  you  pre- 
tended to  be,  and  had  I  been 
really  a  poor  working  girl,  which 
would  have  been  the  villain  ?  Had 
you  been  a  farmer,  as  I  thought.  I 
should  have  done  you  no  harm.  You 
would  have  fondly  imagined  that  you 
had  taken  advantage  of  a  silly  girl's 
weakness,  and  would  have  never 
squandered  a  second  thought  on  the 
frightful  consequences  attending  her 
fall !  I  should  have  taken  a  few  dol  • 
iars  from  your  willing  hands,  and 
that  would  have  been  all — both  would 
have  been  satisfied.  Now,  Mr.  Peel- 
er— ior  I  know  that's  your  racket — 
have  I  not  told  you  the  naked  truth  ? 
You  never  heard  of  my  robbing  a 
man — you  never  saw  me  drunk — you 
never  detected  me  in  any  crime  ex- 
cept this  life  that  I  am  leading — this 
miserable,  this  wretched,  this  horri- 
ble life!  i » You  can  take  me  to  your 
lonely  station  house  !  You  can 
squeeze  blood-money  out  of  me! 
You  can  take  from  me  the  few  dol- 
lars that  God  knows  I  need  lor  such 
comforts  as  are  permitted  to  the  poor 
pick-up!  You  can  look  at  me  with 
€>esthat  know  no  pity!  You  can 
sneer  at  me!  You  can  abuse  me  in 
any  way  that  may  please  you — but 
there  is  one  thing  that  you  can't  do, 
powerful  as  AOU  are — you  can't  make 
Cranky  Ann  anything  but  what  she  is/" 

Mr.  Baldwin  listened  in  astonish- 
ment and  wonder.  He  was  thunder- 
struck at  hearing  such  words  from 
one  whom  lie  he  hud  supposed  not 
capable  of  uttering  anything  above 
the  vulgar,  common-place  blackguard- 
isms of  the  outcast  of  street  and 
hovel.  Neglecting  to  inform  Cranky 
that  he  was  not  a  policeman,  the  mer- 
chant after  a  brief  pause  said : 

"Cranky,  I  think  you  are  wrong — 
1  be  ieve  you  can  be  made  wnat  >ou 
are  not!" 

The  eirl  laughed — such  a  laugh  as 
would  distort  the  face  of  a  defiant 
culprit  on  the  scaffold. 

"  You  can  think  what  you  please," 
she  said,  "and  so  can  I.  You  have 
deceived  me,  and  _  reel  bad — I  feel 
«ore — I  feel  that  I  am  abused  with- 


out cause  and  punished  without  mercy. 
But  I  will  not  complain ;  I  will  not 
resist;  I  will  go  peaceably.  Come, 
brave  officer !  I  am  ready !  Let  us 
take  a  pleasant  walk  to  the  Armory !" 

Again  a  sneering  laugh  that  ended 
almost  in  a  groan. 

"  I  am  not  ready  to  go  yet,  Cranky ! 
I  prefer  to  remain  here  a  while !" 

The  girl  looked  at  him  curiously. 

41  In  fact,  I  shall  not  take  you  to 
the  Armory  to-night,  nor  at  any  oth- 
er time." 

The  street  walker  could  hardly 
put  faith  in  her  senses.  She  had 
never  known  a  policeman  to  act  that 
way  before. 

"Are  you  in  earnest?"  she  said — 
and  there  was  an  eagerness  in  her 
look  that  betrayed  the  depth  of  her 
emotions. 

"  I  never  was  more  in  earnest  in 
my  life,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"Oh!  I  see!"  said  Crank,  with  a 
smile,  "you  are  collecting  taxes  on 
your  own  hook  !  Well,  that's  right , 
that's  decent;  that's  the  best  way. 
I've  got  a  tenner,  but  I  know  you 
wouldn't  take  all  I've  got.  You  can 
have  half  and  welcome,  and  old  Craak 
will  say  '  God  bless  you!" 

Mr.  Baldwin's  thoughts  had  been 
busy  while  the  girl  was  speaking. 

"Did  you  ever  do  anything  of  this 
kind  before?"  he  said,  without,  appa- 
rently, any  other  motive  than  natural 
curiosity. 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  ask  such  ques- 
tions— Crank  would  never  squeal  on 
her  iriends,"  was  her  somewhat  sug- 
gestive reply,  as  she  produced  the 
bill  that  Jack  Dunning  had  given 
her  that  same  af.ernoon. 

"  Keep  your  money — I  have  more 
than  I  want  already,"  said  the  mys- 
terious man,  as  he  refused  the  prof 
fered  bribe. 

"  You  don't  want  to  arrest  me,  you 
don'c  want  mone> — then  tell  me,  Mr. 
Officer,  what  the  devil  do  you  want  ? 
If  there  is  anything  that  old  Crank 
can  do  for  you,  just  mention  it." 

"There  is  something  that  you  can 
do  for  me!" 

"  Yes,  yes !     I  see  1     You're  a  guy 


20 


noy!     You're  the  lad  I  like!    Come 
to  these  arms !" 

And  Crank,  before  he  knew  it,  had 
clasped  the  merchant  in  a  warm  em- 
brace, and  had  actually  kissed  him — 
right  on  the  lips,  too! 

tk  This  is  going  a  little  too  far  1"  he 
exclaimed,  with  a  gasp. 

"  Oh,  you  can  go  farther  and  fare 
worse,"  was  the  reply,  and  smack  ! 
went  another  kiss. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  Harry  know  this 
(or  the  world,"  thought  the  benevo- 
lent seeker  after  adventure,  as  he 
gently  forced  the  woman  away,  and 
remarked  : 

"Permit  me  to  explain,  Miss 
Cranky — 2  am  not  a  policeman  f" 

"The  devil!"  As  she  said  this 
Crank  stepped  back  and  stared.  It 
was  her  turn  to  be  astonished. 

"  No,  I  hope  I  am  not  that  indi- 
vidual that  you  named!" 

Crank  recovered  her  composure 
and  inquired : 

"  Now  let's  come  right  down  to 
business — who  are  you.  what  axe  you, 
and  what  on  earth  do  you  want  of 
Cranky  Ann?" 

"  I  will  not  tell  you  who  I  am,  but 
I  beg  to  have  you  believe  that  I  came 
here  through  no  bad  motive.  I  saw 
>  ou  on  the  street ;  I  was  told  your 
name  and  occupation.  They  told  me 
that  you  was  the  wickedest  woman  in 
Chicago,  and  I  thought  that  it  might 
be  possible  that  I  could  be  the  means 
of  making  you  not  quite  so  bad.  I 
will  tell  you  frankly,  I  never  spoke 
to  a  woman  of  your  class  before,  to 
my  knowledge.  Until  to-day,  I  was 
ignorant  of  the  existence  of  such  as 
you  in  this  great  city.  In  the  con- 
versation that  T  have  had  with  you, 
I  have  detected  the  fact  that  you  are 
an  educated  woman — that  you  were 
once  far  above  your  present  low  con 
diliou,  I  have  the  means  and  the 
will.  If  I  can  help  you,  if  I  can  do 
anything  that  will  make  your  heart 
lighter  and  your  life  happier, nothing 
could  give  me  greater  pleasure.  Now, 
Miss  Ann — I  will  not  call  you 
•  Cniiiky  '  any  more — I  have  told  you 
what,  you  wanted  to  know.  Will 
you  do  me  a  like  favor?" 


The  kind  words  of  the  old  gentle- 
man had  touched  a  tender  spot  in  the 
breast  of  the  street- walker,  and  again 
tears  could  be  detected  under  her 
eyelashes.  Anger  had  caused  them 
to  flow  before ;  anguish  produced  them 
the  second  time. 

Mr.  Baldwin  had  taken  her  hand, 
and  led  her  gently  to  the  sofa — as  a 
father  would  ead  a  child  he  loved. 

"  I  would  do  any  favor  that  so 
good  a  man  as  you  would  ask,"  she 
replied  to  his  question. 

"  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  your  whole 
history,  from  happy  innocenoe  to 
most  wretched  guilt!" 

The  conquered  courtesan  looked 
up  imploringly. 

"  Oh,  sir,"  she  sighed,  "  you  do  not 
know  what  you  ask!  The  past  is  to 
me  a  blank — the  luture  is  a  hell !  To 
revive  the  one  is  horror — to  look  for- 
ward to  the  other  is  torture!" 

"I  would  not  give  you  pain  did  I 
not  think  that  the  sting  of  the  arrows 
of  misfortune  might  be  assuaged,  if 
not  eradicated.  But  I  believe  there 
is  something  better  in  store  for  you 
than  the  gloomy  fate  you  fear." 

The  distressed  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  The  story  of  my  life  is  a  sad 
one,"  she  said,  but  if  you  wish  to 
hear  it  told,  I  "will  try  to  remember 
such  passages  as  will  most  interest 
you.  In  doing  so,  however,  I  shall 
exact  a  promise." 

"Of  what  nature?" 

"  I  shall  ask  you  to  promise  me 
that  you  will  Hot  fly  from  and  spnrn 
me  with  hate,  sc<*rn  and  loathing 
when  you  have  heard  what  I  shall 
speak !" 

"God  forbid!"  was  the  emphatic 
reply. 

"  Then  I  will  reveal  to  you  a  tale 
of  suffering,  of  temptation,  of  guilt, 
oi  shame,  Of  wretchedness  ;md  of 
misery  that  will  make  your  blood 
run  cold!  Lis.en!" 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

There  had  been  a  wonderful  change 
in  the  appearance  ot  Cranky  Ann  ia 
the  few  minutes  that  hid  elapsed 
since  she  entered  that  room.  On 
coming  in.  she  was  exulting  within 


21 


herself  over  what  she  thought  an 
easy  conquest  of  a  gullible  victim. 
She  was  artful,  designing,  unscru- 
pulous. Believing  that  her  compan- 
ion was  an  old  fool,  and  knowing  lull 
well  his  intentions,  she  believed  she 
could  bleed  him  more  freely  in  the 
guise  of  a  working  girl  than  she  could 
if  he  knew  her  real  occupation.  But 
when  he  called  her  by  name,  she  nat- 
urally cone  uded  that  an  officer  in 
disguise  had  entrapped  her,  and  her 
buoyant  hopes  and  joyous  exulta- 
tions were  shattered  on  the  instant — 
her  joy  was  turned  to  bitterness. 
When  this  delusion  had  been  ex- 
pelled, and  she  recognized  her  new- 
found acquaintance  as  a  well-mean- 
ing, benevolent  old  man,  there  was 
another  swift  revolution  ot  sentiment, 
and  for  the  first  time  that  night 
Cranky  Ann  exhibited  her  natural, 
womanly  attributes.  There  was  no 
deception  about  her  when,  in  a  voice 
trembling  with  emotion,  and  with  all 
the  better  instincts  of  her  nature 
aroused,  she  unbosomed  herself  to  the 
humane  gentleman  who  had  sought 
her  in  the  den  where  vice  had  always 
held  high  carnival,  and  where  even 
the  name  of  virtue  had  never  been 
whispered. 

"  When  I  reflect  upon  what  I  was, 
what  I  am,  and  what  I  might  be," 
said  Cranky  Ann,  in  commencing  the 
story  of  her  life,  "I  cannot  help  but 
shudder,  and  my  heart  is  fi.led  with 
bitterness,  resentment,  and  hatred  of 
the  whole  human  race!  You  have 
said  that  I  have  the  reputation  ot  be- 
ing the  wickedest  woman  in  Chica- 
go. I  do  not  deny  it.  I  am  wicked 
as  the  worst,  depraved  as  the  lowest, 
reckless  and  abandoned  as  the  most 
vile!  If  I  do  not  drink,  it  is  because 
I  have  the  strength  ot  mind  to  resist, 
knowing  how  quick  rum  will  drive  a 
woman  to  the  devil!  If  I  do  not  rob, 
it  is  because  I  understand  how  cer- 
tain punnishment  follows  crime!  It 
is  not  from  any  compunctions  of  con- 
science that  I  do  not  follow  the  life 
of  an  outlaw  against  society  in  other 
ways  than* this  street  soliciting  that 
you  have  observed  to-night." 


The  courtesan  paused  for  an  in- 
stant, and  then  resumed: 

"  But  I  promised  to  tell  you  some 
thing  of  my  past  lite,  and  I  will  not 
weary  you  with  incoherent  railings." 

'*  Anything  that  you  may  say  can- 
not fail  to  interest  me,"  said  Mr. 
Baldwin. 

"In  the  first  place,"  resumed 
Cranky,  "  how  old  do  you  think  I 
am?" 

"  I  should  judge  you  to  be  between 
twenty -five  and  thirty,  but  it  is  pos- 
sible that  you  may  be  younger,"  was 
the  reply. 

"  That  shows  what  a  poor  judge 
you  are  ot  my  class.  You  see  me 
now  at  my  best.  Let  me  wash  off 
paint  and  powder,  take  out  teeth,  re- 
move wig  and  lay  aside  pads,  and 
you  would  see  before  you  a  wrinkled, 
shriveled,  gray-headed  woman,  and 
you  would  take  a  Bible  oath  that  she 
was  sixty  years  old." 

u  But  you  are  not  so  advanced  in 
years — I  am  sure  you  are  not." 

"No,  sir — I  am  an  old  woman  oj 
thirty,  and  for  fitteen  long  years  I 
have  been  what  lam  to-day!" 

"  Impossible !'J  exclaimed  the  old 
gentleman  in  amasement;  "you  cer- 
tainly did  not  commence  this  lite  you 
are  leading  at  the  tender  age  of  fif- 
teen I" 

"  I  certainly  did,  and  I  can  point 
you  to  little  girls,  three  years  young- 
than  that,  who  are  confirmed  urosti- 
tutes!" 

The  merchant  could  only  look  his 
astonishment. 

"My  father  is  a  well  known  busi- 
ness man  of  this  city,"  continued 
Crank,  "and  I  was  near  enough  him 
to  day  to  brush  his  garments  as  we 
passed  each  other!  He  drove  me 
from  his  door  with  curses  years  and 
years  ago,  and  at  this  time,  though 
he  sees  me  often,  he  believes  that  my 
bones  are  buried  under  the  dark  wa- 
ters of  Lake  Michigan." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  you  father's 
name?"  inquired  Mr.  Bildwim,  who 
was  intensely  interested  in  what  he 
heard. 

"  No,  sir!  When  I  die  my  secret 
will  be  buried  with  me!" 


22 


"  What  reason  did  he  have  to  ex- 
pel vou  from  his  home  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  you.  At  that  time- 
in  those  dear  old  days — I  was  the 
only  child  of  parents  who  worshipped 
me,  and  would  have  sacrificed  any- 
thing for  my  comfort  or  pleasure.  I 
was  called  handsome,  and  was  devel- 
oped far  beyound  my  years.  At  the 
age  of  fourteen  I  was  a  full-grown  wo- 
man, and  had  many  admirers — among 
them  a  man  who  is  now  a  lawyer,  and 
who  has  often  defended  me  when 
brought  before  the  court  for  being  a 
common  prostitute!" 

'"  And  does  he  not  know  you  ?" 

"Nobody  knows  me!  I  would 
rather  die  than  be  known!" 

"  Strange,  mysterious  woman,  you 
have  indeed  been  unfortunate!" 

Without  noticing  the  interruption, 
Cranky  Ann  resuued  her  story. 

"  My  education  had  been  looked 
after  generously,  and  no  girl  in  Chi- 
cago had  better  prospects  of  becom- 
ing a  talented,  accomplished,  gifted 
lady.  While  at  school — a  seminary 
for  females — I  made  acquaintances 
that  I  could  not  introduce  into  such 
societv  as  my  parents selec'ed  for  me, 
and  I  deceived  them,  and  kept  clan- 
destine appointments  away  from 
home.  TL it  was  the  stepping  stone 
to  all  the  misery  that  I  have  endured. 
One  of  the  parties — and  one  whose 
attentions  were  the  most  pleasing  to 
me — was  a  cruel,  heartless  libertine! 
He  was  handsome,  noble-looking, 
generous,  impulsive, and  with  smooth 
words  the  wretch  won  my  sensitive 
heart !  He  seduced  me  and  aban- 
doned me!  One  day,  when  my  sit- 
uation could  no  longer  be  concealed, 
I  made  confession  to  my  father,  and 
asked  him  to  forgive  me,  and  send 
me  away  until  such  lime  as  I  could 
return  free  from  the  guilty  incum 
brance — without  taint,  so  far  as  the 
world  should  know.  With  terrible 
oaths  he  spurned  me,  commanded  me 
to  leave  his  house,  and  never  again 
darken  the  door  of  the  home  I  had 
dishonored.  Maddened  at  what  I 
thought  his  cruelty,  I  returned  curse 
for  curse,  and  in  a  towering  passion 
went  away,  and  I  have  never  re- 


turned. The  excitement  proved  too 
much  for  even  the  robust  girl  that  I 
wae,  and  that  night  Heaven  kindly 
relieved  me  of  that  which,  had  Nature 
been  permitted  to  perfect  its  work,, 
would  have  been  a  bastard  !  I 
thanked  God  for  this — and  it  is  about 
the  only  thing  that  I  ever  did  thank 
Him  for.  One  week  from  the  day  I 
left  my  father's  roof,  I  wrote  him  a 
long  letter,  telling  him  that  I  could 
not  live  in  disgrace  and  ignominy, 
and  that  my  body  might  some  day 
come  to  the  surface  of  the  lake!  I 
then  disguised  myself  as  best  I  could, 
dyed  my  hair,  and  became  an  inmate 
of  a  house  of  ill-fame  on  South  Clark 
street.  Three  months  after  that,  I 
saw  a  paragraph  in  a  daily  paper, 
stating  that  the  body  of  an  unknown 
woman  had  been  fished  out  of  the 
lake,  and  taken  to  the  dead-house  in 
the  old  city  cemetery.  I  went  there 
early  that  morning.  The  body  was 
naked,  bloated  and  disfigured,  but  it 
was  about  my  size,  and  looked  as 
though  it  might  have  resembled  me 
in  life.  Taking  a  ring  on  which  had 
been  engraved  my  initials,  and  which 
had  been  a  birth-day  present  from  my 
father,  I  slipped  it  upon  a  finger  of 
the  corpse,  and  hurried  away.  The 
result  was  as  I  had  expected.  My 
parents  identified  the  ring  and  took 
possession  of  the  body,  and  it  was 
buried  with  every  demonstration  of 
j  sorrow,  all  my  friends  believing  that 
the  supposed  drowning  was  acciden- 
tal. My  mother  died  with  a  broken 
heart  in  less  than  six  months  from 
that  time,  and  her  body  and  that  of 
the  unknown  dead  now  lay  side  by 
side." 

When  speaking  of  her  mother,  the 
street- walker  could  hardly  control 
her  voice,  and  her  bosom  rose  and 
fell  with  a  rapidity  that  spoke  with 
mute  eloquence,  and  betrayed  a  feel- 
ing of  the  tenderest  regard  for  the 
memory  of  the  revered  dead.  The 
pause  in  the  relation  of  her  pitiful 
life-story  was  very  brief,  and  she  re- 
sumed: 

"  When  the  body  that  was  believed 
to  be  mine  was  covered  with  cold 
clods  of  clay,  and  I  was  mourned  as 


24 


one  departed,  my  determination  to 
be  indeed  dead  to  the  world  was  more 
fixed  and  more  desperate  than  it  ever 
had  been,  -and  from  that  day  till  this 
I  have  kept  my  vow.  I  feared,  for  a 
year  or  two,  that  my  disguise  would 
be  penetrated,  for  I  often  met,  in  the 
houses  where  I  lived,  men  who  knew 
me  as  intimately  as  man  ever  knew 
woman.  The  very  man  who  loved 
me  and  who  mourned  with  pitiful 
sincerity  at  my  funeral,  did  not  rec 
ognize  in  the  blonde  beauty  of  the 
bagnio  the  beautiful  brunette  whom 
he  would  have  married  only  a  few 
short  months  before  " 

"  Pardon  me,"  interrupted  Mr. 
Baldwin,  "  but  tell  me  how  you  know 
this  man  you  speak  of  mourned  so 
earnestly  at  your  burial." 

"  I  should  have  mentioned  before, 
perhaps,  what  you  may  deem  the 
most  remarkable  incident  in  the  ca- 
reer that  I  am  narrating.  I  know 
the  depth  of  his  sorrow  from  the  tears 
he  shed  when  they  lowered  the  poor 
corpse  into  its  narrow  cell !  I  attend- 
ed my  own  funeral !  I  saw  a  stern- 
visaged  father  glare  with  stony  eyes 
at  the  disfigured  dead;  I  saw  a  bro- 
ken-heaned  mother  weep  over  the 
ghastly  remains  of  her  only-born;  I 
saw  a  grief  stricken  lover  bow  under 
the  burden  of  a  great  and  overwhelm- 
ing sorrow;  I  saw  the  friends  and 
companions  of  my  girlhood  bedeck 
the  casket  that  contained  the  clammy 
corse  with  flowers  of  the  field  and 
lillies  of  the  lake ;  and  could  any  one 
have  peered  under  the  thick  veil  that 
eovered  the  face  of  a  lone  woman  in 
that  solemn  cortege,  they  would  have 
started  with  open  mouthed  wonder, 
and  every  lip  would  have  cried  out, 
Why  grieves  this  hireling  harlot  over 
the  death  of  the  pure,  the  beautiful 
and  the  lovely  one  whose  name  was 
Innocence  and  whose  character  was 
Purity  ?" 

Cranky  Ann   uttered  these  words 
with  such  intense  fervor,  and  was  la- 
boring under  such  agonizing  excite 
ment  that  she   fairly    shrieked   them 
into  the   ears   ot   her  listener.     Mr. 
Baldwin    was    almost    equally    im 
pressed,  and  the  picture   as  they  sat 


there — the  one  with  blazing  eyes  and 
the  other  with  eager  earnestness — 
was  such  an  one  as  the  brush  ol  the 
artist  or  the  pen  of  the  author  never 
yet  depicted  on  canvass  or  paper. 

"That  day,"  continued  Cranky, 
"  when  I  returned  to  the  hell  that  I 
called  home,  it  was  with  such  feelings 
as  the  human  heart  seldom  experien- 
ces. I  was  dead  and  buried,  and  yet 
alive  and  robust  as  I  ever  had  been. 
From  that  time  until  this  hour  I  have 
lived  a  false  life,  but  I  have  guarded 
my  secret  well.  Long  ago  the  terri 
ble  trials  that  I  have  undergone 
snatched  away  the  ruddy  roses  of 
the  days  of  innocence,  and  no  dis- 
guise has  been  needed  to  protect  me 
from  the  searching  stare  of  familiar 
eyes.  I  live  as  '  a  dream.  The 
father  that  knows  me  not  has  brushed 
against  me  on  the  walk,  and  once — 
great  God  !  I  shall  never  forget  it  ! 
— he  made  an  attempt  to  attract  my 
attention  on  the  street  1  The  lover 
who  wept  at  my  grave  has  many 
times  folded  me  to  his  heaving  breast 
in  guilty  embrace  1  One  of  my  most 
dear  schoolmates — a  girl  as  lovely 
and  as  good  as  was  ever  born — fell 
by  the  deceiver's  arts,  and  has  occu- 
pied the  same  room  with  me  in  a  pub- 
lic brothel !  The  temptation  to  be- 
tray myself,  to  throw  off  the  veil  ot 
concealment,  and  to  reveal  myself  in 
my  true  character,  has  sometimes 
been  almost  irresistible.  I  have 
yearned  to  open  my  heart  to  those 
that  loved  me  dearly  once,  but  I  have 
not  done  it.  No!  As  the  tedder 
tendrils  of  the  ivy  hug  the  sturdy 
oak,  so  has  my  resolution  clung,  to 
an  iron  will,  and  my  sacred  secret  is 
safe !  The  grave  of  the  unfortunate 
unknown  is  honored,  and  at  its  head 
there  stands  a  monument;  when  I  die, 
they  will  write  OUTCAST  on  a  rough 
slab,  and  in  the  Potter's  Field,  un- 
honored  and  unwept,  the  body  of  old 
Ccanky  Ann  will  make  meals  for 
maggots !" 

There  was  bitterness  in  her  voice, 
and  a  strange,  wild  look  in  her  eye. 

"  I  have  now  told  you  all  that  you 
will  care  to  know,"  resumed  the 
street  walker.  "  My  career  as  a  wo- 


25 


man  of  the  town  has  been  much  the 
same  as  that  of  all  the  rest.  From 
parlor  I  have  descended  to  pave,  and 
now,  in  these  tawdy  trappings,  I  roam 
from  corner  to  corner,  and  seek  in 
every  face  I  meet  a  glance  of  wrong- 
ful recognition." 

When  she  had  concluded  the  old 
gentleman  heaved  a  sigh,  and  from 
his  lips  there  fell  these  three  words: 

"God  help  you!" 

"  God  ?  What  has  God  got  to  do 
with  such  as  me  ?  Why,  right  here 
in  Chicago  they  are  talking  about  a 
great  revival — but  who  will  be  con- 
verted? Will  any  of  your  thousands 
of  good  people  treat  with  anything  but 
loathing  and  scorn  any  of  us  poor 
girls  who  walk  the  streets  and  deal  in 
shame  ?  Is  there  anything  on  earth 
that  will  wash  away  the  stain  upon 
a  guilty  woman's  name?  No,  sir! 
Tney  may  pray  for  us,  and  I  believe 
they  mean  well;  but  a  harlot  can 
never  be  reclaimed  and  elevated  to 
the  position  she  lost  by  her  fall!  The 
devil  has  marked  us  as  a  drover 
would  mark  his  sheep,  and  we  are  all 
doomed  to  be  damned !" 

"  Let  us  hope  for  something  bet- 
ter," said  Mr.  Baldwin,  with  sym- 
pathy in  his  face  and  voice. 

"Your  story,"  he  continued,  "has 
produced  upon  me  a  powerful  impres- 
sion, and  1  hardly  know  what  to  do 
or  say ;  but  let  me  assure  you  that  ii 
there  is  anything  that  can  be  accom- 
plished by  means  of  my  influence  or 
my  money,  you  need  no  longer  ply 
the  arts  and  artifices  that  have  given 
you  the  name  of  Cranky  Ann  ! 
I  will  go  now,  and  think  upon  what 
I  have  heard ;  but  I  will  come  again. 
To-morrow  you  may  expect  to  see 
me." 

The  appointment  she  had  made 
with  Jack  Dunning  flashed  upon 
Crank's  mind. 

"  I  cannot  see  you  to-morrow,  nor 
for  more  than  a  week,"  she  said,  "be- 
cause I  have  something  of  importance 
to  attend  to;  but  if  in  ten  days  you 
will  meet  me  in  this  room,  we  will 
have  a  friendly  talk,  it  nothing  more." 

"I  will  be  here,"  replied  Mr. 
Baldwin,  and  bidding  her  a  kind 


good-bye  he  left  the  room,  and  tne 
street-walker  was  once  more  alone- 
alone  with  her  thoughts. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Harry  Harper  did  not  feel  at  all  at 
ease  after  he  had  parted  with  his 
friend  at  the  foot  of  the  stairway 
leading  to  Cranky  Ann's  room.  He 
had  no  very  high  opinion  of  that 
wonderful  woman's  honesty,  for  he 
knew  her  to  be  unscrupulous  in  all 
all  her  dealings  with  men,  and  he  also 
knew  that  she  was  familiar  with  every 
deceitful  device  known  to  the  mod- 
ern "  lady  ot  the  pave."  He  was 
aware,  also,  that  Mr.  Baldwin  was  not 
posted  to  any  great  extent  on  the 
tricks  and  traps  that  are  set  for  the 
unsuspscting,  and  that  it  was  not 
impossible  that  he  would  come  to 
some  undefinable  harm,  he  knew  not 
what. 

At  first  he  walked  over  to  Pott- 
geiser's  saloon,  listened  to  a  well- 
sung  song,  drank  a  couple  of  glasses  of 
lager,  and  lingered  about  the  place 
for  the  space  of  about  fifteen  minutes. 
He  then  recrossed  the  street  and  toolf 
position  within  hearing  distance, 
should  there  be  the  faintest  alarm. 
But,  as  the  reader  knows,  there  was 
no  cause  for  anxiety — he  had  no 
knowledge  of  the  better  instincts  of 
the  bad  woman  upon  whom  he  now 
and  then  bestowed  a  smile  of  recog- 
nition or  a  word  of  kindness. 

An  hour,  that  seemed  an  age, 
elapsed,  and  then  he  heard  descend- 
ing footsteps,  and  felt  relieved  at 
meeting  with  the  disguised  mer- 
chant. 

'*  You  made  quite  a  lengthy  call," 
he  said,  as  they  met  on  the  side- 
walk. 

"  The  time  seemed  very  short  to 
me,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Your  reception  was  quite  warm, 
I  imagine." 

"Exceedingly  so." 

"  You  were  not  captivated,  I 
hope?" 

"  You  are  wrong,  Harry — I  was 
captivated — I  was  charmed  1" 

"  That  she- devil  did  not   pull    the 


26 


veil  of  enchantment  over  your  eyes?" 

"  Stop!"  cried  Mr.  Baldwin,  with 
unusual  severity,  for  him,  and  with 
more  zeal  than  he  dad  displayed  lor 
a  long  time  in  any  cause. 

"Why,  what  on  earth  is  the  mat- 
ter?" exc'aimed  the  young  man  in 
astonishment. 

"  You  probably  meant  no  harm," 
was  the  more  pacific  reply,  "  but  in 
applying  epithets  to  that  unhappy 
woman  you  do  hei  great  injustice. 
She  is  not  so  bad  as  you  would  paint 
her." 

Harry  shook  his  head  dubiously. 

"  I  would  not  offend  you  for  the 
world,  Mr,  Baldwin,"  he  said,  "  but 
I  very  much  fear  that  you  have  been 
most  outrageously  imposed  upon." 

"  And  I  know  that  I  have  not  been. 
Alanson  Baldwin  is  not  a  fool!" 

"  No,  sir,  you  are  not ;  but  many  a 
good  man,  many  men  of  solid  sense 
and  sound  minds,  have  been  victim- 
ized by  just  such  women  as  Cranky 
Ann  !" 

"  It  may  be  that  they  have — I  do 
not  donbt  it.  But  I  am  sure  that 
nothing  of  the  kind  has  been  attemp- 
ted upon  me  to-night.  If  I  really 
thought  that  woman's  words  were 
false,  that  her  tears  were  hypocritical, 
that  her  object  was  treachery,  that 
her  aim  was  to  deceive  for  guilty 
purposes,  I  should  never  again  place 
an  iota  of  confidence  in  mortal  man 
or  woman!" 

"  It  would  be  unfortunate  should 
you  be  '  roped  in  and  played  for  a 
sucker,'  as  the  fast  folks  would  say, 
on  ^  our  first  effort  at  seeing  Chicago 
in  Chunks." 

"It  would  indeed,  for  I  should 
never  desire  to  see  any  more 
'  Chunks,'  as  you  call  them " — and 
the  old  gentleman  smiled. 

Upon  further  questioning,  Mr. 
Baldwin,  as  near  as  he  could,  detailed 
the  story  he  had  heard. 

"  Now  do  you  believe  her  an  im- 
poster?"  he  inquired,  in  concluding 
the  narrative. 

The  >  oung  man  did  not  reply  for  a 
full  minute,  but  his  thoughts  were 
busy. 

14  -  can't  tell  what  to  think   about 


|  it,"  he  said  slowly.  "I  don't  see  what 
I  object  she  could  have  in  telling  a  lie. 
You  boldly  announced  at  the  start 
your  knowedge  of  her  reputation. 
She  would  not,  therefore,  dream  of 
making  you  believe  otherwise,  and 
it  seems  she  did  not.  But  the  story 
sounds  more  like  an  Oriental  romance 
than  anything  else  I  can  think  of. 
There  is  something  so  unreal,  so 
ghostly,  so  wonderfully  improbable 
about  it  as  to  actually  stagger  be- 
lief, were  one  ever  so  much  inclined 
to  be  credulous." 

"  And  yet,  Harry  Harper,  I  believe 
every  we  rd  of  it — every  word,  from 
beginning  to  end." 

"If it  is  true,"  said  Harry,  '-old 
street- strolling  Cranky  is  something 
of  a  heroine." 

u  Something  of  a  heroine  ?  You 
may  well  say  that  she  is!  Yes,  sir  ! 
she  is  the  most  remarkable  woman  in 
the  world's  history!" 

"  The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more 
1  am  inclined  to  credit  the  yarn,"  said 
Harry,  "for  I  don't  believe  there  is 
either  a  man  or  woman  in  Chicago 
who  could  deliberately  invent,  with- 
out some  foundation,  such  a  strange, 
enchanting  tale !" 

The  conversation  continued  a  few 
minutes  upon  this  topic,  and  both 
men  agreed  that  they  would  know 
more  of  Cranky  Ann  at  a  future  time. 

"  What  do  yon  propose  to  do  now, 
Harry?"  inquired  Mr.  Baldwin,  after 
the  other  subject  had  been  dismissed. 

"I  propose  to  astonish  you,"  was 
the  rather  mystified  reply. 

"  God  knows  I  have  been  aston- 
ished already,"  was  the  old  gentle- 
man's response. 

"  But  this  time  your  nerve  will  be 
put  to  a  severer  test." 

"How  so?" 

*'  I  shall  show  you  something  that 
will  make  your  blood  curdle  and 
stand  still  in  your  veins!  I  will  take 
you  where  you  will  hold  up  your 
hands  in  horror  and  turn  away  in  un 
utterable  dismay!  I  will  show  you 
sights  that  you  never  dreamed  exis- 
ted outside  ol  hell  1" 

*•  Your  words,  even,  almost  frigh' 
me ;  but  tell  me,  Harry,  my  boy, 


fc  this  terrible  thins;  that  you  are  go 
ing  to  show  me?" 

"  It  is  Chicago  at  Midnight !  " 


CHAPTER   X. 

When  Mr.  Baldwin  had  gone,  and 
the  street- walker  was  alone,  the 
thoughts  that  ran  through  her  mind 
were  so  mixed  and  conflicting  that 
she  was  almost  unable  to  think  at  all. 
It  had  been  a  long,  long  time  since 
she  had  permitted  herself  to  be  other 
than  the  cunning,  cratty  courtesan, 
the  supreme  object  of  whose  exis- 
tence seemed  to  be  to  deceive  the 
verdant  victims  who  should  be  en 
trapped  by  her  artificial  charms.  But 
to  the  merchant  she  had  been  honest 
— she  had  told  the  truth — and  in  do 
ing  so  she  had  aroused  and  brought 
to  life  recollections  that  she  would 
gladiy  have  buried  in  the  grave  of 
eternal  forgetfulness,  were  it  passible 
to  forget  wrongs  and  outrages  such 
as  Cranky  had  suffered. 

No  more  business  for  her  that 
night!  The  pave  had  no  charms  lor 
Crank  at  best,  and  to  walk  out  then, 
and  smile  when  her  heait  was  well 
nigh  breaking,  was  so  utterly  revolt- 
ing that  the  mere  thought  of  it  made 
the  outcast  shudder  and  recoil. 

With  wonderful  command  over  her 
feelings  she  sat  at  the  open  window, 
and  for  several  minutes  silently 
viewed  the  passers  by. 

Suddenly  arousing  as  from  a  dream, 
the  street- walker  spoke  in  a  whis- 
per, as  one  sometimes  speaks  when 
alone. 

"  That  was  a  good  old  man,"  she 
said.  "  I  could  tell  by  looking  in 
his  eye,  and  by  the  sound  of  his 
voice,  that  there  is  nothing  bad  about 
him.  I  wonder  what  he  wants  of  me, 
any  way  ?  Does  he  think  that  he  can 
reform  me  ?  Does  he  think  that  I 
would  work — that  I  would  be  a  ser- 
vant /  Alter  all  these  years  out  in 
the  wide  world,  out  in  the  street, 
disgraced  and  despised,  does  he  think 
old  Cranky  Ann  is  going  into  some- 
body's kitchen  and  be  a  drudge,  with 
the  finger  of  scorn  still  pointed  at  her? 
No!  When  worst  comes  to  worst; 


when  Misery,  gaunt  and  eloomyt 
drags  me  to  the  last  ditch;  when  De- 
spair, dark  and  dreary,  leaves  me  no 
other  alternative,  then  the  old  girl 
will  show  herself  %amc  to  the  last,  and 
either  lake,  river,  poison,  bullet  or 
dagger  will  do  their  deadly  work!" 

She  shuddered  in  spite  of  herselfr 
as  she  uttered  these  desperate  words, 
and,  dismissing  the  unpleasant  sub- 
ject of  what  she  was  and  what  she 
was  coming  to,  her  thoughts  turned 
to  Jack  Dunning,  and  his  object  in 
seeking  her  assistance  in  some  scheme 
the  nature  of  which  she  could  guess 
quite  easily,  but  the  depth  of  which 
she  could  not  be  expected  to  know^ 
She  knew  him,  however,  to  be  a  bold, 
bad  man,  who  would,  to  gi  atify  any 
passion,  resort  to  any  and  every 
means  within  his  power.  R  solving 
in  her  mind  that  she  would  make 
some  money  out  of  him  if  she  could, 
and  do  as  little  as  she  could  in  re- 
turn— for  she  hated  the  man — she  re- 
tired at  an  early  hour,  to  sleep  the 
sleep  of  the  guilty,  and  to  struggle 

through  a  remarkable  dream  / 

»  *  *  *  * 

The  nexf  afternoon,  according  to- 
agreement,  Jack  Dunning  met  the 
street-walker. 

"  You  are  on  time,  I  see,"  said 
Crank,  smiling. 

"  Yes,  and  that's  just  what  I  want 
you  to  be,  always,"  was  the  semi-se- 
rious reply. 

"  You  can  bet  on  me!"  The  look 
of  the  woman  was  more  expressive 
than  her  words,  and  she  continued : 

"  Now,  then,  Jack,  unbosom  your- 
self 1" 

"I  told  you  yesterday  what  I 
wanted.  At  least  I  told  you  enough 
to  give  you  an  idea  ol  what  I  wanted. 
Did  you  not  understand  ?" 

"  A  person  can  sometimes  under- 
stand too  much  or  too  little,  Jack. 
Therb  should  be  nothing  but  plain 
words  between  you  and  I  in  this  busi- 
ness." 

"And  that's  just  exactly  what  I 
want.  Are  you  willing  to  go  to 
work  for  me — to  do  anything  that  I 
ask  you  to  do?" 

"  Yes,  provided  you  don't  ask  me 


28 


to  murder  anybody,  or  do  some  other 
dreadful  thing." 

"  Of  course  I  would  not  ask  you  to 
do  that.  But  you  must  be  faithful 
and  trueT 

"  You  have  the  word  of  Cranky 
Ann  that  she  will  put  herself  under 
your  instructions,  and  perform  any- 
thing that  you  may  ask!" 

"But  don't  ask  too  much,"  she 
would  have  said,  had  she  uttered  her 
thoughts,  which  she  was  very  careful 
not  to  do. 

The  two  then  held  a  long  and  ear- 
nest conversation,  the  nature  of  which 
will  become  apparent  to  the  reader  as 
our  story  progresses.  As  he  rose  to 
go  Jack  said : 

"  I  guess  we  understand  each  other, 
Crank?" 

"  Perfectly  /" 

But  there  was  a  strange  gleam  in 
the  eye  of  the  street-walker,  that  Jack 
Dunning  would  not  have  understood 
had  he  noticed  it. 

CHAPTER  XL 

Alanson  Baldwin  had  not  been  out 
of  bed  as  late  as  12  o'clock  for  many 
a  long  month — indeed,  for  many  a 
"ear — and  the  proposition  made  by 
Ms  young  friend  somewhat  startled 
him  for  an  instant.  But  he  had  set 
out  to  learn  all  that  he  could  of  crime 
in  Chicago,  and  he  was  not  prepared 
to  falter  in  the  work  so  quick. 

"  I  do  not  know  exactly  what  you 
mean,  Harry,"  he  said,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  "when  you  speak  of 
showing  me  ' Chicago  at  midnight,' 
as  you  term  it,  but  I  will  follow 
wherever  you  may  choose  to  lead. 
I  hope,  however,  you  will  try  and 
avoid  danger, .  both  on  my  account 
and  your  own." 

"  Whatever  you  may  see,  do  not 
for  an  instant  permit  yourself  to  be 
frightened.  Remember  that  you  are 
a  companion  of  one  of  the  gay  boys 
of  Chicago,  and,  as  a  man  is  known 
by  the  company  he  keeps,  you  will 
everywhere  be  looked  upon  as  one 
of  those  who  now  and  then  stroll  into 
places  where  they  ought  not  to  go." 

"Very    well.     I   will   try  and  not 


turn  pale  or  tremble,  as  possibly  I 
might  do  under  other  circumstan- 
ces." 

Harry  Harper  consulted  his  watch. 
It  was  yet  early  in  the  evening,  com- 
paratively— it  was  late  according  to 
the  old  gentleman's  method  of  keep- 
ing track  of  time. 

"  We  have  an  hour  or  so  to  spare," 
he  said,  "  but  that  time  can  easily  be 
whiled  away  in  some  of  the  neighbor- 
ing concert  saloons.  After  that  we 
will  visit  places  that  will  interest  you 
much  more  deeply  than  you  im- 
agine." 

Little  did  Harry  Harper  imagine 
that  he  was  uttering  prophetic  words  ! 

For  the  next  two  hours  the  sight- 
seers and  scene-seekers  found  noth- 
ing very  extraordinary  or  out  of  the 
way,  though  to  the  old  gentleman  it 
was  not  only  new  and  novel,  but  ex- 
tremely interesting.  He  had  never 
before  mingled  in  such  company,  and 
persistently  refused  to  quaff  the 
foaming  lager,  in  response  to  the  in- 
vitations of  the  waiters — pretty  and 
otherwise — who  lugged  that  beverage 
to  all  parts  of  the  house  they  visited. 
Finally  Harry  inquired  of  him  the 
hour. 

Mr.  Baldwin  fumbled  under  his 
coat  an  instant  and  exclaimed,  excit- 
edly: 

"  Heavens!     I've  lost  my  watch  I" 

"Hush,"  said  Harry,  without  man 
ifesting  any  alarm,  "I  think  you  must 
be  mistaken." 

"  No,  Harry,  I  am  not  mistaken  1 
It  was  in  my  pocket  less  than  an 
hour  ago!  It  has  been  stolen!" 

"  No,  not  so  bad  as  that.  It  was 
taken,  but  not  stolen — that's  an  ugly 
word.  I  presume  some  friend  has 
borrowed  it,  forgetting  to  ask  you  for 
the  loan." 

"But  I  have  no  friend  in  this 
place." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  have — one  that  I 
know  of." 

"And  who  is  he?"  inquired  the 
old  gentleman,  looking  around  with 
keen,  careful  scrutiny,  hoping  that 
be  might  see  some  one  that  he  knew. 

Harry  held  out  his  hand  and  the 
old  man  mechanically  took  it. 


30 


To  his  great  surprise,  instead  of 
the  warm  palm,  he  felt  a  cold  sensa- 
tion, and  instantly  the  truth  flashed 
upon  his  mind — his  watch  had  not 
been  stolen  ! 

"That  was  very  cleverly  done, 
Harry!" 

There  was  a  broad  grin  upon  his 
face. 

"  Yes,  and  it  might  have  been  done 
just  as  cleverly  by  a  dozen  other  men 
in  this  room,"  was  the  reply.  "  I 
have  been  watching  you  with  a  dou- 
ble purpose — to  protect  your  prop 
erty  and  practically  demonstrate 
what  perhaps  you  would  not  have 
believed  prssible — that  YOU  can  be 
robbed  in  the  most  public  place,  and 
not  know  anything  about  it  for  hours 
afterward." 

"•  I  really  think  I  should  have 
doubted,"  was  the  reply,  "but  now 
I  "know,  and  shall  be  very  careful  in 
future.  By  the  way,  is  it  not  time 
to  start?" 

"  Halt  past  eleven — yes  we  will  go. 
Come!" 

The  two  made  their  way  to  the 
street. 

After  they  had  proceeded  a  short 
distance,  Harry  took  from  his  pocket 
a  revolver. 

"  Here,"  hesaid,"Ihave  purchased 
this  for  j'our  benefit. " 

The  merchant  jerked  away  his 
hand  as  though  it  had  been  a  rattle- 
snake that  was  offered  him. 

"  Harry  Harper,"  he  said,  with 
great  emphasis,  "  what  does  this 
mean?" 

u  It  means  that  you  ought  not  to 
go  promenading  around  the  streets  of 
Chicago  at  midnight  without  some 
means  of  protection!" 

The    old   man    looked   at    Harry 

sharp  y. 

"Are  you  g^ing  to  take  me  where 
I  am  liable  to  be  murdered  ?" 

"No,  sir;  I  believe  you  will  be  just 
as  safe  with  me  as  \ou  would  be  in 
your  bed  at  home." 

"  Then  why  offer  me  this  murder- 
ous wenpon — this  instrument  of 
death  ?" 

"  It  was  simply  to   make   you  feel 


safer  than  you  would  or  could  feel 
without  it." 

"  Then  keep  it!  I  would  not  have 
it  in  my  possession  a  single  hour  for 
this  whole  block  of  buildings!  I 
would  not  have  the  life  of  a  human 
being  upon  my  soul  for  all  the  world's 
treasures !  There  is  no  danger  so 
great  that  a  man  cannot  avoid  it 
without  bloodshed!  A  deadly  wea- 
pon tor  protection  is  the  argument  of 
cowardice,  not  manhood!  Look  at 
the  homes  in  Chicago  that  have  been 
desolated  by  the  wretched  habit  ot 
carrying  revolvers.  See  the  widows 
and  the  orphans  that  would  have  pro- 
tectors now  but  for  this  heaven- 
cursed  and  hell  invented  demon  that 
you  call  revolver!  No,  sir!  II I  knew 
I  was  to  be  butchered  to  night,  I 
would  scorn  to  accept  this  purchase 
that  you  have  made  for  me!" 

Seeing  that  the  old  gentleman  was 
excited,  Harry  did  not  attempt  to 
urge  the  point. 

"I  meant  no  harm,  Mr.  Baldwin," 
he  said,  "  and  should  not  have  made 
the  offer  had  I  not  believed  you 
would  have  felt  more  secure.  And 
I  now  assure  you  that  no  matter  how 
serious  things  may  look,  no  matter 
how  boisterous  the  conduct  of  the 
parties  who  may  be  met,  no  matter  if 
you  do  see  squabbles  and  knock- 
downs, and  hear  fearful  threats  and 
horrible  oaths,  there  will  be  no  dan- 
ger for  you,  because  you  are  the  com- 
panion of  a  boy  as  well  known  as  any 
that  travels  the  streets  of  Chicago, 
and  who  is  able  to  protect  his  friends 
at  any  time  and  place." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  you,  and  do  not 
blame  you,  Harry.  I  have  very  pe- 
culiar ideas  concerning  such  things, 
and  am  willing  that  others  should 
have  theirs." 

While  talking  they  had  turned 
westward  on  a  cross-street,  and  soon 
found  themselves  on  Pacific  avenue — 
or  what  is  popularly  known  as  Biler 

street. 

"  We  will  turn  once  more,"  said 
Harry,  but  the  old  gentleman  was 
admiring  the  solid  walls  of  the  Arm- 
ory prison,  and  it  required  a  second 


31 


reminder  to  make   him   understand. 

"  You  have  seen  the  inside  of  that 
building  already,"  he  continued,  with 
a  laugh  that  was  not  as  merry  as  it 
might  have  been.  « 

"  Yes,  and  so  have  you,"  replied 
Mr.  Baldwin,  by  way  of  a  joke — a 
sort  of  a  crude  joke,  too. 

"  If  I  get  there  again,  I  shall  ask 
no  kind  friend  to  come  to  my  relief," 
said  Harry. 

"  We  will  say  no  more  about  that, 
my  dear  boy,  but  will  proceed  on  the 
journey  that  you  have  marked  out." 

But  they  had  taken  but  a  few  steps, 
when  Mr.  Baldwin  changed  places 
from  the  inside  to  the  outside  of  the 
walk,  and  his  left  hand  clutched  Har 
ry's  arm  with  a  firm  grip. 

The  walk  was  not  thronged,  but 
the  one  or  two  saloons  that  were  first 
passed  were  filled  with  men  and  wo- 
men that  a  stranger  wou'd  not  care 
to  meet,  and  the  language  is  so  foul, 
so  filthy,  so  abominable  that  the  mer 
chant  involuntarily  shrank  from  such 
close  proximity  to  such  loathsome 
creatures. 

A  little  further  on,  as  they  neared 
an  open  window  with  half-closed  shut- 
ters— a  woman's  voice — a  harsh, 
cracked,  repuMve voice — called: 

"  Mister!" 

The  old  man  halted,  and  would 
have  inquired  innocently  what  was 
wanted,  but  Hany  pulled  him  along. 

"  Pay  no  attention  to  anything  that 
is  said  to  you  here,"  he  said ;  "  you 
will  find  a  hag  in  every  door,  and  a 
hag's  head  in  every  window,  and 
overy  one  will  hail  you  in  one  way 
and  another,  for  it  is  their  business 
to  do  so." 

"  What  are  they  ?  Who  are  they, 
Harry?" 

"  Before  I  am  through  showing  you 
Chicago  in  Chunks,  w  will  visit  some 
or  all  of  these  places.  At  present,  it 
is  only  necessary  that  I  should  tell 
you  that  every  house,  with  perhaps 
one  or  two  exceptions,  in  this  whole 
block,  is  occupied  by  the  lowest  and 
vilest  and  most  besotted  prostitutes 
to  bs  found  in  any  city  in  the  wor'd!" 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Bald- 
win, "  is  it  possible  that  such  a  black 


spot  can  be  found  in  the  very  heart 
of  the  great  city  of  Chicjgo — a  Chris- 
tian city,  too!" 

"When  you  know  all,  my  friend, 
you  will  not  cla^s  this  place  as  the 
worst  that  can  be  found  in  the  heart 
of  tne  city." 

Again  this  young  man's  words  were 
deeper  than  he  knew! 

"  J  cannot  understand  you.  You 
say  that  the  creatures  who  find  a 
home  in  these  hovels  are  the  worst, 
and  yet  you  assert  that  there  are  more 
dangerous  places  still !" 

"  I  will  explain,  then.  The  pitfalls 
that  one  can  see  can  be  avoided.  The 
veriest  fool  that  walks  the  streets 
could  not  be  deceived  regarding  the 
character  of  these  hell-holes.  The 
women,  if  I  can  call  them  such,  who 
now  hail  us  as  we  pass,  carry  the 
mark  of  shame  upon  their  faces  so 
plain  that  a  man  can  read  the  sign  of* 
sin  in  the  darkest  night.  But  ther^ 
are  places  in  Chicago  where  no  finger- 
board points  to  danger,  where  every- 
thing looks  as  guileless  as  the  most 
sacred  sanctuary,  but  where  danger, 
in  its  darkest  shape,  lurks  night  and 
day !  These,  sir,  that  we  look  at 
now,  a/e  places  that  are  brazen  in 
their  infamy;  the  others  are  more 
damnable  and  more  dangerous  be- 
cause they  are  concealed  traps  where 
innocence  is  liable  at  any  time  to 
touch  the  spring  and  tall, — fall  never 
to  rise  again — fall,  adding  one  more 
victim  to  woman's  vilenessand  man's 
licentiousness!" 

Astonishment  was  never  more 
plainly  depicted  than  on  the  old  gen- 
tleman's face,  when  he  heard  these 
impassioned  utterances.  It  took  him 
a  full  minute  to  find  words  to  ex- 
press his  feelings. 

"  I  am  amazed !"  he  said ;  "but  what 
do  you  mean  when  you  sp:ak  of 
woman's  vileness?  ' 

"  Woman,  Mr.  Baldwin,  can  de 
scend  to  far  lower  depths  of  in- 
famy than  man!  The  very  worst 
devils  in  the  world  are  .^-devils,  and 
if  there  is  a  hell,  as  true,  as  I  stand 
here  I  believe  it  is  governed  by  a 
woman!  I  will  say  no  more  now,  but 
before  many  days  go  by  you  shall 


32 


see  with  your  own  eyes  and  hear  with 
your  own  ears!" 

"  I  will  not  press  you  to  explain. 
I  had  rather  look  at  this  wickedness 
than  listen  to  a  description  of  it,  no 
matter  how  truthful  or  how  accurate. 
But  great  heavens!  what  place  is  this?" 
he  exclaimed,  as  Harry  halted. 

"This," replied  the  young  man,  in 
a  low  voice,  but  with  startling  em- 
phasis, is  the  dark  den  of  Chicago!" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Josephine  Baldwin,  the  day  after 
her  father  had  left  his  home,  sat  alone 
in  one  of  the  grand  parlors,  with  no 
apparent  occupation.  But  she  was 
busy — she  was  thinking  and  her 
thoughts  were  sad  ones,  too.  The 
father  that  she  loved  was  away,  and 
that  of  itself  was  a  circumstance  that 
made  the  hours  weary  and  lonesome; 
but  there  was  another  whose  features 
were  vividly  engraved  upon  her  mind, 
and  to  him  her  thoughts  turned  with 
melancholy  interest.  Where  was  he? 
What  was  he  doing  ?  Was  he  really 
a  bad,  unprincipled  man,  and  was 
there  no  means  by  which  he  could  be 
reclaimed?  Why  did  she  take  his 
wrong  actions  so  deeply  to  heart  ? 
For  a  long  time,  she  had  not  seen  him. 
They  had  never  been  on  terms  of  in- 
timacy. He  had  never  in  his  life 
made  any  overture  by  which  to  be- 
tray any  other  feeling  for  her  than 
that  of  the  respect  to  which  her  sta- 
tion entitled  her.  But  there  was  an 
indescribable  something — a  magnetic 
influence  of  some  unexplainable  na 
ture — that  caused  the  heart  of  Jose- 
phine Baldwin  to  warm  and  her  pulse 
to  quicken  whenever  the  name  of 
Harry  Harper  was  mentioned,  or 
whenever  her  thoughts  turned  toward 
him. 

She  sat  there  for  a  full  half  hour, 
and  never  moved.  She  was  in  a  semi 
trance,  with  hardly  the  power  to  con- 
trol her  actions. 

The  bell  rang  sharply,  and  the  ser- 
vant took  from  the  handset  a  District 
Telegraph  Messenger  a  note  directed 
in  a  feminine  hand  to  Miss  Baldwin. 

She   opened  the  missive  with  un- 


concern, for  it  was  not  unusual  for  her 
to  receive  messages  from  some  of  her 
many  lady  friends. 

"  An  invitation  to  a  party,  I  sup- 
pose." she  said,  languidly. 

But  her  eyes  put  on  a  more  serious 
expression  as  she  glanced  over  the 
written  page. 

The  note  read  as  follows : 

PALMER  HOUSE,  CHICAGO,  Aug.  16. 
My  Dear  Miss  Baldwin  :  Though  to 
you  I  am  an  entire  stranger,  yet  I 
trust  you  will  pardon  me  for  intrud- 
ing upon  your  attenion  for  a  moment. 
I  am  traveling  for  my  health-  this 
summer,  and  have  no  other  compan- 
ions than  the  servants  who  accom- 
pany me.  My  home  is  in  New  Or 
leans,  and  my  mother  gave  me  your 
address,  assuring  me  that  herself  and 
your  dead  mother  were  schoolmates 
together,  and  as  dear  to  each  other 
•is  sisters.  She  was  confident,  she 
said,  that  the  daughter  of  her  friend 
would  be  glad  to  meet  the  child  of 
the  frieud  of  her  girlhood.  I  should 
be  very  happy  indeed  to  have  you 
call  on  me  at  my  rooms  at  the  Pal- 
mer; but  if  you  prefer  I  shall  esteem 
it  a  privilege  to  call  on  you  at  your 
residence. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

ISABELLA  MARTINDALE. 

Without  a  shadow  of  suspicion  that 
there  was  any  treachery  in  this  well- 
worded  note,  Josephine  answered  it 
at  once,  warmly  assuring  Miss  Mar- 
tindale  that  she  would  be  more  than 
welcome,  and  pressing  upon  her  to 
come  without  delay,  and  make  her 
home  with  them  while  in  the  city. 

This  was  exactly  what  Cranky 
Ann  (for  the  reader  will  of  course 
recognize  her  as  Isabella  Martindale) 
had  anticipated,  although  she  had 
really  taken  rooms  at  the  Palmer 
House,  in  order  to  make  assurance 
doubly  sure. 

On  that  afternoon,  a  lady  of  uncer- 
tain age,  from  her  looks,  was  driven 
in  a  stylish  carriage  to  the  house  0f 
Mr.  Baldwin,  and  was  cordially 
greeted  by  the  merchant's  accom- 
plished and  hospitable  daughter. 

Cranky  Ann  had  done  herself  great 


33 


credit  in  the  success  with  which  she 
had  disguised  herself.  The  cosmetics 
that  had  been  brought  into  use  had 
been  skilfully  applied,  and  a  beautiful 
blonde  wig,  in  direct  contrast  to  her 
own  black  hair,  made  the  transforma- 
tion complete,  and  Crank  would  not 
have  been  seriously  doubted  had  she 
given  her  age  at  not  much  more  than 
twenty.  She  was  literally  loaded 
down  with  diamonds,  which  were 
displayed  with  rare  good  taste,  and 
her  whole  appearance  indicated  a  gen- 
teel young  lady  of  great  wealth. 

In  response  to  the  urgent  entreat- 
ies of  Miss  Baldwin,  the  elegant 
"southern  lady"  consented  to  re- 
main as  the  guest  of  Josephine  for 
the  few  days  that  she  intended  to  re 
mam  in  Chicago. 

The  son  of  the  merchant  was  intro- 
duced, and  the  dashing  blonde  beau- 
ty, with  her  charming  manners,  her 
inodest  conduct,  and  her  rare  con- 
versational powers,  together  with  her 
marked  nobility  of  birth,  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  him. 

Before  Cranky  Ann  had  been 
there  two  days,  Jeremiah  Baldwin, 
the  young  merchant,  the  heir  to  a 
large  fortune,  was  madly  in  love! 

The  street-walker  had  played  her 
cards  to  perfection. 

On  the  second  day,  Crank  managed 
to  obtain  an  interview  with  Jack 
Dunning,  to  whom  she  revealed  her 
success,  and  related  all  the  partic- 
ulars, with  the  exception  of  her  own 
conquest;  that  little  circumstance  she 
very  wisely  kept  locked  in  her  own 
bosom. 

**  Do  you  know  young  Mr.  Bald- 
win?" she  asked,  after  having  in- 
formed him  of  what  she  had  done. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  was  the  reply, 
••  but  he  may  know  me,  for  I  am  pret- 
ty well  spotted  around  town." 

"  Then  it  would  be  foolish  for  you 
to  call  on  me  at  his  house,  for  you 
know,  Jack,  that  a  high-toned  lady, 
like  myself,  could  not  recognize  as  an 
acquaintance,  even,  a  disreputable 
scoundrel  like  yourself." 

Jack's  face  crimsoned,  but  he  con- 
quered his  angry  feelings. 

"  You  are  right ;  I  must  not  call 


on  yon ;  therefore  we  mast  manage 
so  that  you  and  your  friend  shall  caH 
on  my  mother f ' 

"And  for  this  special  occasion 
what  fortunate  old  female  vagabond 
will  be  honored  by  personating  your 
beloved  mamma?" 

"  There  is  a  house  on  Wabash  ave- 
nue, among  the  five  hundreds,  that 
will  answer  the  purpose,  I  guess." 

"  Oh,  fes !  I  know  the  place  welL 
It  is  an  assignation  house." 

"Once  more  you  are  correct, 
Crank.  The  keeper  is  a  particular 
friend  of  mine.  She  is  a  very  moth- 
erly old  lady,  too,  and  can  easily 
pass  herselt  off  as  one  of  the  finest 
old  ladies  in  the  land." 
s*  "  Yes,  and  she  is  a  fine  lady,  Jack. 
She  would  make  a  splendid  appear- 
ance with  a  rope  around  her  neck.  It 
ought  to  have  been  there  long  agol* 

"  You  are  getting  to  be  exceed- 
ingly moral,  Miss  Crank.  Why 
should  my  venerable  friend  be  pre- 
sented with  such  an  undesirable  or- 
nament?" 

"  Because  she  is  a  murderess!" 

"  Who  has  she  murdered  ?  I  never 
heard  anything  of  the  kind." 

"  She  has  not,  it  is  true,  cut  any- 
body's throat,  nor  used  a  knife  or 
pistol,  and  it  is  possible  that  she 
never  took  a  life.  But  she  has  stab- 
bed the  life  out  of  innocence  as  often 
as  any  cut-throat  ever  plunged  a 
knife  into  the  heart  of  his  victim! 
That  is  worse  than  murder,  Jack 
Dunning!" 

"Really,  Crank,  when  the  revival- 
ists get  here  you  would  make  a  big 
hit  by  going  down  to  the  Tabernacle 
as  an  exhorter!  How  long  have  you 
felt  that  way?  It  has  always  been 
my  impression  that  Cranky  Ann  was 
not  too  good  to  engage  in  this  worse- 
than-murder  business." 

The  street- walker  had  spoken  with- 
out thinking.  Perceiving  that  she 
had  betrayed  herself,  and  that  it  was 
necessary  to  stop  short  and  tarn 
about,  she  laced  Jack  with  a  laugh 
that  had  every  appearance  of  being 
genuine. 

"  I  was  merely  shooting  off  my 
mouth  to  see  what  effect  it  would 


have  on  you,  Jack,"  she  said ;  "  and 
don't  you  forget  that  old  Crank  is  a 
thoroughbred,  and  the  wickedest 
woman  that  ever  wore  a  brass-heeled 
gaiter  boot!" 

Jack  telt  relieved. 

"That's  the  kind  ol  talk  I  like, old 
gal,"  he  said,  with  a  hilarity  that  was 
not  feigned;  "and  now,  when  shall 
we  two  meet  again  ?" 

"To-morrow  afternoon,  if  that  will 
suit  you,"  was  the  reply. 

"To-morrow  afternoon,  then,  you 
will  call  on  your  friend,  and  your 
friend' s  son  will  give  you  and  your 
companion  a  warm  and  hearty  wel- 
come!" 

After  some  further  conversation  of 
a  common-place  nature,  Crank  sepa- 
rated from  her  companion  in  guilt, 
and  returned  to  the  residence  of  the 
merchant. 

The  following  day,  by  the  artful 
and  persuasive  accept  ions  which  her 
education  helped  Crank  to  use  with 
powerful  force,  Josephine  Baldwin 
consented  to  accompany  the  "South- 
ern lady"  on  an  af  ernoon  call  upon  a 
much-esteemed  acquaintance! 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

"The  dark  den  of  Chicago!"  re- 
peated Mr.  Baldwin,  after  Harry  Har- 
per had  ceased  speaking,  as  they 
halted  on  Pacific  avenue;  "what  do 
you  mean  by  that,  Harry?" 

"  This  is  the  wart  on  the  fair  body 
ot  Chicago!  This  is  the  blistering 
curse  of  this  unhappy  city.  It  is 
the  den  ot  depravity  by  the  side  of 
which  all  other  dens  are  blameless! 
It  is  the  dance  house  of  old  Dan  Web- 
ster!" 

"  I  have  heard  of  such  a  man.  He 
is  colored,  I  believe."  < 

"  He's  a  nigger,"  was  the  response, 
"but  he  is,  though  ignorant,  and  un- 
able to  read  a  word  or  write  his 
name,  one  of  the  most  cunning  ras- 
cals to  be  found  in  this  country.  He 
is  wealthy,  and  is  known  about  town, 
where  he  is  known  at  all,  as  the  Col 
ored  Croesus.  Will  you  go  in?" 

"You  are  the  Captain  in  this  ex- 
ploring expedition,"  was  the  reply; 


"wherever  you  go  I  follow."     Aud 
the  old  gentleman  smiled. 

But  he  did  not  smile  a  moment 
later,  for  a  scene  met  his  gaze  that 
would  have  bewildered  and  stagger- 
ed a  man  of  more  experience  in  the 
wickedness  of  this  world  than  Alan- 
son  Baldwin. 

What  did  he  see? 

It  is  not  necessary  that  we  should 
lumber  these  pages  with  a  deta»led 
description  of  the  room  or  its  loca- 
tion. Our  story  is  one  of  those 
graphic  recitals  of  facts  that  will  not 
tolerate  the  dullness  of  the  prosaic 
and  uninteresting  descriptions  that 
are  characteristic  of  the  writings  of 
Dickens  and  authors  of  less  repute. 
The  readers  of  this  romance  expect 
and  demand  life  in  every  word,  a 
sensation  in  every  paragraph.  Aad 
they  shall  have  it ! 

Imagine  a  large-sized  room,  with 
low  ceiling,  dimly  lighted  by  kero- 
sene lamps,  black  and  smoky,  and 
you  have  a  three-line  description  of 
this  place  that  is  better  than  a  column 
of  generalities.  It  is  the  inmates  and 
their  actions,  and  not  the  place  or  it* 
surroundings,  that  require  attention 
here. 

Reader,  were  you  ever  in  hell?  Did 
you  ever  have  the  nightmare?  Were 
you  ever  afflicted  by  some  horrid 
dream,  in  which  were  mixed  up  de- 
mons ot  darkness  and  every  conceiv- 
able object  of  loathing  in  human 
form?  It  you  have  been,  then  you  can 
have  some  conception  of  the  scene 
that  met  the  merchant's  eyes  as  the 
door  of  the  dance  hall  closed,  and  he 
found  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  gath- 
ering ol  the  filth  and  scum  of  Chi 
cago. 

The  "band"  was  laboring  with  ve- 
hement industry,  and  the  music  pro- 
duced was  ear  piercing,  though  not 
soul-stirring.  There  were  probibly 
fifty  couples  on  the  floor,  keeping 
lively  step  to  the  fiddlers' f  sawings 
and  scrapings,  and  every  mortal  was 
sweating  from  head  to  foot,  making 
the  close  room  fairly  sickening  to  the 
organs  of  smell  of  any  decent  man. 

The  males  were  mostly  negroes — 
"big  buck  niggers,"  as  Harry  called 


thtrn — and   the   females    were    (oh, 
horrible!)  white  %irls! 

There  were  a  few  wenches,  it  is 
true,  but  the  others  outnumbered 
them  two  to  one  1 

"  I  can't  stand  this  !  I  shall  suffo- 
cate! Let  us  go!"  whispered  Mr. 
Baldwin* 

**  Wait  a  few  minutes;  you'll  soon 
get  over  it;  I  want  to  explain  to  you 
the  character  of  some  of  the  persons 
in  this  place." 

"  If  I  don't  die  from  the  effects  of 
this  horrid  atmosphere,  I'll  try  and 
remain  a  short  time,  but  it  must  be 
very  short,  Harry.  I  can't  stand  it 
long." 

"Do  you  see  those  girls?"  said 
Harry. 

"Yes,  yes !  Great  heaven !  I  do  see 
them!     A  I  did  not  I  could  never  be- 
lieve  these  things  could  exist  in  Chi 
«ago!"     > 

"  And  do  you  know  what  they  are?" 

"  I  can  guess — but  oh,  Harry,  it  is 
awful!11 

"  These  girls — some  of  them,  you 
will  perceive,  are  quite  young — are 
not  what  are  known  as  common  pros- 
titutes." 

"  For  God's  sake,  then,  what  are 
they?" 

"They  are  working  girls'" 

"  Impossible !' 

The  old  gentleman  was  the  picture 
of  astonishment. 

"  Where  do  they  work  ?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"They  are  the  scrub  girls  and 
chambermaids  of  the  first-class  hotels 
of  Chicago.  While  at  work  they  come 
in  contact  with  these  negroes.  Daily 
association  with  them  wears  off  the 
repugnance  that  they  may  at  first 
feel,  and  finally  they  consent  to  come 
after  working  hours  to  such  places  as 
this,  and  indulge  in  revels  as  disgust- 
ing as  they  are  sickening." 

"But  these  are  not  all  girls  of  that' 
class  ?"  • 

"Oli,  no.  Many  of  these  white 
creatures  are  confirmed  courtesans, 
who  have  descended  step  by  step 
from  sin  in  silk  to  the  condition  in 
which  you  now  see  them — to  the 
lowest  degree  ol  shame  that  a  human 


being  can  reach.  For  instance,  do 
you  see  this  little  woman  with  a  short 
dress,  who  is  coming  this  way?  -You 
would  think  by  her  short  skirts,  and 
her  petite  figure,  that  she  was  a  girl 
in  her  teens ;  but  she  is  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  abandoned  prosti- 
tutes in  Chicago.  She  is  the  mother 
of  three  nigger  children,  and  that 
whitewasher  whose  arm  she  holds  is 
their  father.  She  is  " — 

The  short- skirted  female  came 
within  two  feet  of  them  while  Harry 
was  speaking,  and  Mr.  Baldwin  had 
an  opportunity  to  look  her  squarely 
in  the  eyes.  As  he  did  so,  he  started 
back  in  horror,  his  face  turned  as 
white  as  the  frescoed  ceilings  of  his 
own  parlors,  his  eyes  glared  with  a 
wild  and  unnatural  stare,  and  he 
would  have  fallen  to  the  floor  had  not 
Harry's  strong  arm  prevented. 
I"  Mr.  Baldwin!  "exclaimed  Harry, 
"  this  is  indeed  too  much  for  you  to 
bear;  let  us  go  out  at  once." 

"No!  no!  There!  There!"  His 
trembling  finger  pointed  to  the  girl 
Harry  had  been  describing. 

"What of  her?"  inquired  Harry, 
in  utter  amszement. 

"  Great  God  have  mercy  on  her!" 

"  Do  not  be  excited,  Mr.  Baldwin; 
there  are  hundreds  such  as  she  in 
Chicago." 

"No!  there  is  but  one!  That  is 
my  sister's  child!" 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

On  the  day  following  the  startling 
discovery  made  by  Mr.  Baldwin  at 
the  dance  house  of  old  Dan  Webster, 
the  merchant  labored  under  great 
mental  excitement  and  suffering. 
Both  his  sister  and  her  husband  had 
been  dead  several  years,  and  it  had 
been  supposed  that  the  daughter  was 
also  in  her  grave,  she  having  mys- 
teriously disappeared  when  quite  a 
young  girl.  The  mob  at  the  dance, 
though  many  of  them  saw  the  old 
man  being  held  up  by  his  young 
friend,  paid  no  attention  to  the  cir- 
cumstance, supposing  that  he  was 
drunk.  Harry  instantly  conducted 
him  to  the  street,  assuring  him  that 


36 


he  knew  the  girl  well  ,and  could  find 
her  at  any  t  me,  and  that  it  would  be 
folly  to  set  ;  an  interview  with  her 
that  night.  They  then  proceeded  to 
their  room  i  i  the  business  part  of  the 
city,  where  a  sleepless  night  was 
passed  by  the  elder  of  the  two.  When- 
ever his  eyelids  closed,  there  con- 
fronted him  a  vision  of  a  fair  young 
girl  mingling  with  the  debased  black 
and  white  wretches  whom  he  had 
seen  mingling  promiscuously  togeth- 
er on  that  same  night  1 

The  next  afternoon,  feeling  that  a 
walk  would  do  him  good,  and  per- 
haps revive  his  spirits,  he  resumed 
the  disguise  that  he  had  worn  the 
previous  night,  and  sauntereM  out, 
with  no  do'  nite  idea  as  to  the  direc- 
tion he  shoald  take,  or  the  destination 
he  should  i  each.  First  he  gassed  his 
own  store,  and  passed  within  two 
feet  of  his  son,  who  knew  him  not. 
Then,  guided  by  some  inward  mon- 
itor, he  strolled  down  Wabash  ave- 
nue, until  he  reached  his  own  home. 
Oh,  how  he  longed  to  enter,  if  but 
for  a  moment,  and  press  his  beloved 
daughter  to  his  breast !  But  he  had 
embarked  upon  a  mission,  and  he  had 
i  the  courage  to  resist  the  impulse  that 
forced  him  to  lay  his  hand  upon  the 
gate,  as  ha  passed.  He  saw  hfs 
daughter  at  one  window,  while  at  the 
other  sat  a  strange  lady  ! 

"  I  wonder  who  that  can  be?"  he 
mused ;  "  I  certainly  never  saw  her 
before,  and  it  is  singular  that  a  per- 
fect stranger  should  appear,  upon 
such  app  arent  familiar  terms,  so  soon 
after  my  departure  1" 

But  the  subject  was  soon  dismissed 
from  his  mind,  as  he  leisurely  pro- 
ceedef  down  the  avenue,  busy  with 
his  thoughts — sad  and  gloomy 
thoughts. 

Twenty-second  street  was  reached 
before  he  was  conscious  of  the  time 
he  had  been  walking;  and,  turning, 
he  proceeded  as  far  east  as  the  little 
depot  at  the  head  of  South  Park  ave- 
nue. Here,  fanned  by  the  pure  lake 
breezes,  he  remained  for  half  an  hour 
or  more,  and  then  started  on  his  re- 
turn, taking  the  same  route  by  which 
he  had  come.  On  reaching  the  Ha- 


ven School  he  halted  to  watch  the 
pranks  of  the  playful  children,  who 
were  enjoying  with  wild  delight  their 
afternoon  recess. 

"  Alasl't  he  sighed,  "  she  was  one 
of  these  the  last  time  I  saw  her?" 

At  that  moment  he  looked  up  and 
started  back  with  a  shudder  that  was 
involuntary ;  for  there,  within  ten  feet 
of  him,  approaching  at  leisure  pace, 
was  his  own  daughter,  accompanied 
by  the  strange  lady  ! 

Josephine  passed  him  by  without 
the  slightest  look  or  token  of  recog- 
nition ;  but  her  companion  gazed  at 
the  old  man  with  a  wild  stare,  and 
turned  pale  and  trembled  as  he  re- 
turned it  with  a  searching,  penetra- 
ting gaze. 

"  That's  the  old  man  I  promised 
to  meet  again,"  thought  Cranky  Ann, 
"  and  on  my  soul  I  believe  he  has 
recognized  mel* 

But  she  continued  on  her  way  and 
never  looked  around. 

"  Who  in  the  world  can  that  wo 
man  be  ?"  was  the  question  Mr.  Bald- 
win asked  himself.  "  If  I  did  not 
know  that  I  was  thoroughly  disguised, 
I  would  swear  that  she  knew  me ;  for 
a  stranger,  and  a  lady  at  that,  would 
never  have  devoured  me  with  her 
eyes,  as  she  did.  And  she  started, 
too,  and  turned  pale,  and  looked 
frightened.  This  is  a  mystery  that 
I  cannot  understand ;  but  this  I  do 
know,  that  she  is  every  inch  a  lady, 
or  Josephine  Baldwin  would  not  be 
seen  in  her  company !  I  wonder 
where  they  are  going?  Shall  I  follow 
them  ?  No  !  though  in  the  disguise 
of  an  ignorant  countryman,  I  will  not 
forget  that  I  am  Alanson  Baldwin 
and  a  gentleman  /" 

Ah  !  old  man,  had  you  known  the 
trutb  your  very  soul  would  have 
frozen  with  horror,  and  all  the  powers 
of  hell  and  the  devil  could  not  have 
held  you  back ! 

4  "  Why  do  they  walk,  I  wonder?" 
he  continued,  in  an  inaudible  conver- 
sation with  himself;  "  it  is  almost  a 
mile  from  here  to  my  house,  and 
surely  Josephine  would  not  travel  all 
that  distance  on  foot,  when  the  fam- 
ily carriage  is  at  her  disposal  at  any 


37 


hoar  of  the  day.  Really,  I  feel  mys- 
tified; my  own  daughter  did  not 
know  me,  and  yet  that  other  woman 
didf  There  is  something  strange 
about  this — something  that  I  cannot 
understand — something  so  myste- 
rious that  I  am  almost  inclined  to 
hurry  on  after  them,  and  find  out 
where  they  go,  and  who  this  woman 
is!  But  pshaw!  I  have  no  fears,  and 
speculations  are  idle  and  unavailing 
— my  dear  little  Josie  is  all  right, 
and  even  a  suspicion  concerning  her 
friend  is  mean  and  cowardly!" 

He  then  took  an  avenue  car  and 
returned  to  his  room,  where  he  found 
Harry,  reading  a  famous  Saturday 
sporting  paper,  and  smoking  a  cigar. 

The  young  man  smiled.     * 

41  Been  out  taking  in  the  town  on 
your  own  hook  ?"  he  inquired. 

'•Oh,  no;  I  have  lefi  all  that  for 
you,  and  have  simply  been  taking  the 
air  and  indulging  in  a  walk  down  the 
avenue." 

"Down  the  avenue!  Then  you 
must  have  passed  your  house." 

"  Yes ;  I  not  only  walked  past  my 
own  home,  but  also  took  a  peep  into 
the  store,  where  I  saw  my  son  and 
employes  busily  at  work,  little  think- 
ing that  the  eyes  of  the  old  man  was 
upon  them."  \ 

"  And  did  you  see  your  daughter, 
too?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  saw  her  twice./  And 
the  old  gentleman  related  the  inci- 
dent already  known  to  the  reader. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it,  Harry?" 
he  inquired. 

"  I  think  this,"  he  replied,  "  that 
Miss  Baldwin  would  never  counte- 
nance the  acquaintance  or  accept  the 
friendship  of  any  man  or  woman 
whose  integrity  was  not  above  sus- 
picion !" 

He  spoke  warmly  and  earnestly. 

u  Well  said,  my  young  friend,  well 
said !  And  that  reminds  me  of  some- 
thing Josie  said  about  you  /" 

About  me  !  It  is  not  possible  that 
Miss  Baldwin  would  stop  for  a  mo- 
ment to  think  of  such  a  person  as  I 
am  I 

His  heart  was  in  his  throat.  He 
could  hardly  speak. 


"  Ok,  yes !  She  urged  me  to  make 
all  possible  haste  to  the  station  house, 
and  by  all  means  to  secure  your  re- 
lease, no  matter  what  you  had  done. 
And  when  I  returned  and  explained 
everything — she  made  me  do  it,  Har- 
ry— and  she  read  the  letter  you  had 
written,  the  dear  child  defended  you 
with  wonderful  eloquence,  and  de- 
clared her  belief  that,  though  wrong, 
you  were  honest,  and  would  have 
faithfully  and  manfully  kept  your 
promise  1"  * 

"God  bless  her!" 

The  old  man  noticed  the  deep  fer- 
vency with  which  these  words  were 
uttered,  but  he  attributed  the  cause 
for  so  much  emotion  to  the  natural 
gratitude  that  any  one  would  feel  to- 
wards a  warm  and  zealous  defender. 
He  did  not  dream  of  the  great  joy 
that  gladdened  the  heart  of  his  young 
friend  as  he  heard  the  story  of  the 
girl's  sympathy  and  confidence  !  She 
at  least  did  noli  think  him  a  thief,  and 
he  was  happy  ! 

CHAPTER  XV. 

It  will  be  remembered  that,  in  a 
preceding  chapter,  mention  was  made 
of  a  remarkable  dream  that  disturbed 
the  slumbers  of  Cranky  Ann,  on  the 
night  that  she  revealed  a  portion  of 
her  life-tale  to  the  philanthropic  mer- 
chant. 

It  was  merely  a  dream,  and  yet  it 
was  so  natural,  so  life  like,  so  vivid 
that  on  awakening  the  poor  street- 
walker's mind  was  dazed,  and  it  re- 
quired several  minutes  to  restore  her 
to  complete  consciousness.  But 
when  reason  did  come,  and  she  real- 
ized that  her  imaginings  of  the  hours 
before  had  been  but  the  fallacies  of 
dreamland,  she  groaned  aloud  and 
muttered : 

"God!  Twas  onty  a  dream,  after 
all!" 

Upon  retiring,  her  mind  had  not 
been  in  a  settled  condition,  but  she 
heroically  endeavored  to  stifle  mem- 
ory, and  keep  back  the  surging 
thoughts  that  madly  struggled  in  the 
effort  to  push  themselves  fcrward. 
That  which  she  had  related  to  Mr. 


Baldwin  had  revived  recollections 
that  were  agonizing,  and  she  cursed 
herself  for  the  weakness  that  had  led 
her  to  let  loose  her  tongue  at  the  re 
quest  of  a  stranger.  «  Yet  there  was 
a  magnetism  in  his  presence,  a  charm 
in  his  words,  that  she  could  not  re- 
sist. She  felt  that  she  was  in  the 
presence  of  a  good  man — better  than 
any  that  she  had  conversed  with  tor 
years — and  the  sensation  was  so 
strange  and  so  pleasant  that  she  could 
refuse  him  nothing.  She  had  met 
and  conversed  with  a  great  many 
respectable  gentleman  before  but  they 
were  such  only  in  name — they  were 
the  hypocrites  whose  prayers  were 
long  and  loud  in  public,  but  who 
were  like  an  apple  with  a  fair  and 
tempting  skin,  beneath  which,  to  the 
very  core,  all  was  rottenness. 

Cranky  Ann's  eyelsds  had  scarcely 
closed  when  fancy  fluttered  its  fleecy 
wings,  and  the  fairies  of  imagination 
danced  fleetingly  before  her.  Once 
more  she  was  a  child.  The  bloom 
of  youth  was  upon  her  cheeks,  and 
the  vigils  of  virtue  had  guarded  her 
honor.  Purity  was  written  upon  her 
face  and  beamed  from  her  eyes  and 
the  blighting  breath  of  scandal  had 
not  scorched  her  reputation  nor  sul- 
lied her  name.  Her  heart  was  light 
as  the  fleecy  flakes  of  the  winter's 
snow  Time  passed.  Years  were 
compressed  into  minutes,  through 
the  magic  potency  of  the  dream  god. 
The  tempter  came.  With  his  smooth 
words,  his  persuasive  and  appealing 
eyes,  his  gentle  manners,  he  won  the 
maiden's  heart.  Without  thought, 
with  never  an  idea  that  she  was  do 
ing  wrong,  with  no  suspicion  that  the 
lover  was  other  than  he  seemed,  with 
no  lack  of  confidence  in  every  word 
he  uttered,  but  with  child-like  faith 
that  no  power  on  earth  could  shake, 
she  fell  into  the  toils.  Bliss  was  brief. 
The  devil's  horns  and  hoofs  were 
soon  revealed.  Covered  with 
shame  as  with  a  garment,  over- 
whelmed with  grief,  middened  with 
a  consciousness  of  her  own  guilt  and 
her  betraj  er's  baseness,  she  shrank 
from  the  gaze  of  family  and  friends, 
and  went  out  upon  the  world  branded. 


The  dream  was  broken  by  a  misty, 
hazy,  half-conscieus  interlude,  and 
once  more  fitful  fancy  resumed  its 
sway.  But  oh!  how  changed  the 
vision!  The  beautiful  maiden  had 
been  transformed  into  a  hateful,  hid- 
eous hag.  She  lay  in  a  filthy  hovel, 
upon  a  bed  of  straw.  Her  face  was 
swollen,  blotched  and  blistered.  Her 
hair  was  matted  and  tangled.  She 
was  clothed  in  the  most  loathsome 
rags,  with  the  vermin  crawling  in 
the  seams,  and  feeding  upon 
her  flesh.  Her  feet  were  bare, 
and  her  hands  were  clotted  with  the 
blood  and  filth  that  had  been  scraped 
from  festering  sores.  Wretchedness 
such  as  that  had  never  been  seen  be- 
fore. Despair  blazed  from  her  blood- 
shot eyes,  and  from  head  to  foot  she 
quivered  as  one  stricken  with  palsy. 
The  black  angel  of  death  stood  over 
her,  and  as  he  waved  his  crimson 
wand  the  wretch  upon  the  pallet  gave 
one  mighty  shriek,  and  fell  back 
stark,  stiff,  lifeless;  and  in  the  out- 
lines of  the  sickening  corpse  Cranky 
Ann  saw  reflected  her  own  image  ! 

No  wonder  the  street  walker 
groaned.  No  wonder  she  started. 
No  wonder  she  exclaimed,  with  the 
blood  treezing  in  her  veins :  • 

"  God!  'Ttvas  only  a  dream! 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
The  house  to  which  Cranky  Ann 
conducted  Miss  Baldwin  was  an  im- 
posing edifice,  elegantly  furnished, 
presided  over  by  a  woman  whom  we 
will  call  Madame  Gibson.  It  was 
simply  a  very  aristocratic,  high  toned 
assignation  house.  There  was  an  air 
of  perfect  respectability  about  the  es- 
tablishment, and  even  the  neighbors 
were  not  aware,  at  that  time,  of  its 
true  character.  Madame  Gibson  was 
an  elderly  woman,  somewhat  inclined 
to  corpulency,  with  hair  sprinkled 
liberally  with  gray.  She  had  remark- 
ably clear  black  eyes,  wore  gold  spec- 
tacles, and  her  whole  appearance  was 
rather  attractive  for  one  of  her  years. 
Her  real  character  will  be  clearly  de- 
fined before  this  romance  is  conclu- 
ded. 


40 


With  the  exception  of  the  Madame 
and  two  servants,  (colored),  there 
was  no  one  in  the  house  at  the  time 
we  introduce  her;  but  evidently  she 
was  expecting  a  visitor,  for  she  was 
standing  at  a  window  of  the  front 
parlor,  peering  through  the  blinds 
with  eyes  that  seemed  too  anxious 
for  ordinary  curiosity. 

u  He  wrote  me  a  note  that  he  would 
be  here  this  afternoon  early,"  she 
said  to  herself,  "  and  here  it  is  nearly 
3  o'clock  and  no  signs  of  his  appear- 
ance. That  he  means  business  I 
know,  for  Jack  Dunning  is  one  of  thit 
kind;  and  he  is  one,  too,  who  is  will- 
ling  to  bleed  freely  provided  his  wishes 
are  faithfully  complied  with.  He  is  no 
common  customer,  for  he  is  too  shrewd 
to  pay  the  price  I  demand  for  apart 
ments,  when  he  knows  where  to  find 
others,  that  will  answer  the  same 
purpose,  for  one  quarter  the  amount ; 
but  when  he  requires  a  long  head,  a 
brave  heart,  and  a  cunning  brain,  he 
knows  where  to  find  it,  and  knows, 
too,  that  he  will  have  to  pay  for 
iff  ' 

"  Ha  !  here  he  conies,"  she  contin- 
ued,  with   animation,    as    she    has- 
tened to  the  front  door  to  admit  her 
expected  friend  and  patron,  even  be 
fore  he  had  rang  the  bell. 

"My  dear  Madame,"  exclaimed 
Jack,  shaking  her  warmly  by  the 
hand,  "  I  am  delighted  to  find  j-ou  at 
home.  Did  you  receive  my  note?" 

44  Yes,  and  it  is  lucky  you  wrote 
one,  for  I  had  intended  to  enjoy  an 
afternoon  ride  to  day." 

"For  pleasure,  I  suppose?"  he 
queried,  with  an  expressive  glance  in 
her  face. 

"  Oh,  for  that  matter,  I  always 
combine  business  with  pleasure,"  she 
replied;  'the  old  woman  always 
keeps  her  eyes  open,  if  she  does  look 
through  spectacles." 

"  And  pretty  sharp  eyes  they  are, 
too,"  he  gallantly  rejoined,  as  they 
walked  into  the  parlor. 

Both  having  taken  a  seat  on  the 
same  sofa,  Madame  Gibson  looked 
up  with  a  questioning  gaze. 

"  I  know  what  you  would  ask,"  he 
said. 


"  Yes  ?  Well,  if  you  are  a  mind- 
reader,  please  tell  me,  what  would  I 
ask?" 

"  You  want  to  know  my  business 
here." 

"  You  are  partly  right,  and  partly 
wrong.  If  you  have  any  special 
business  with  me,  of  course  it  is  but 
natural  that  I  should  have  some  curi 
osity  as  to  its  nature;  but  one  thing 
I  can  assure  you,  Mr.  Dunning — you 
will  always  find  a  cordial  welcome  to 
the  hospitalities  of  my  house,  whether 
you  come  to  seek  my  services,  or  as 
a  friendly  caller !" 

Jack  Dimming  did  not  repeat  his 
thoughts!  It  he  had,  one  word  would 
have  been  sufficient — "  Gammon." 
He  knew  that  Madame  Gibson  would 
do  anything  for  money,  and  that  as  to 
friendship  she  was  a  thoroughbred 
wolf.  But  notwithstanding  this 
knowledge,  he  thanked  her  very 
warmly  for  her  kind  assurances,  and 
then  proceeded: 

"  Madame,  it  will  only  take  me  one 
little  minute  to  explain  the  reason  of 
my  visit  this  afternoon.  I  wish  to 
engage  you!" 

"  That  is  a  queer  wish,  Jack;  pray 
make  your  meaning  a  little  more 
plain."" 

"  "Well,  then,  I  want  you  to  act  a 
part  for  a  day  or  two.  Do  you  think 
you  could  consent  to  own  me  for  a 
son  for  that  length  of  time  ?" 

"  I  should  be  proud  of  you  if  you 
were  my  son,"  was  the  flattering  re- 
ply. 

"  But  that  does  not  answer  m.jr 
question." 

"  Really,  I  know  I  am  thick  head- 
ed, but  I  must  own  that  I  don't  quite 
understand  you. 

"  Then  I  will  explain  fully.  Two 
ladies  will  call  here  this  afternoon. 
One  ot  them,  Miss  Isabella  Martin- 
dale,  you  must  recognize  as  a  friend 
you  have  met  in  New  Orleans.  She 
is  in  mv  employ.  The  other  is  a  reat 
lady,  Miss  Baldwin  by  name,  with 
whom  I  am  madly  in  love,  but  have 
no  acquaintance.  While  they  are 
here,  1  will  happen  in.  I  am  your 
son,  and  of  course  you  will  introduce 
me  as  such.  Atter  that,  I  can  man- 


41 


age  the  little  play  myself.     An  oppor- 
tunity is  all  I  ask." 

"  Now  I  understand  the  whole 
business,  as  well  as  though  I  had 
studied  it  a  month.  You  say  the 
ladies  will  be  here  this  afternoon?" 

»*  At  or  near  4  o'clock." 

"But  suppose  the  young  lady,  by 
some  strange  freak,  does  not  prove 
as  tractable  as  you  imagine  P' 

"  If  such  should  be  the  case,"  and 
there  was  a  wicked  gleam  in  the  two 
eyes  that  he  flashed  upon  the  Mad- 
ame, "  then  you  and  I  may  have  oc- 
casion to  engage  in  further  business 
transactions  /" 

"  I  understand  1"  was  the  reply. 

There  was  more  meaning  in  these 
two  words  than  could  be  explained 
in  an  entire  printed  page.  The  voice 
and  the  eye  can  tell  more  in  a  second 
than  words  can  express  in  an  hour. 

It  was  fortunate  for  them  that  a 
quick  understanding    had  been  per 
fected,  for  just  at  that  moment  the 
clear-sounding  bell   announced   that 
at  least  one   more   visitor   had   ar 
rived. 

Jack  Dunning  did  not  desire  to 
meet  his  charmer  at  once.  He  con- 
sidered that  it  would  be  much  the 
better  plan  to  wait  until  she  should 
become  partially  acquainted  with  his 
mother^  and  then  quietly  drop  in  on 
them,  and  secure  the  introduction  he 
coveted. 

Retiring  to  a  rear  room,  where  he 
would  be  unobserved,  he  awaited 
further  developments ;  awaited  them 
with  an  anxiety  he  had  never  felt  be- 
fore. 

A  servant  answered  the  bell,  and 
at  once  conducted  the  ladies,  who 
were  none  other  than  Cranky  Ann 
and  Josephine  Baldwin,  to  the  main 
parlor. 

Madame  Gibson  was  so  completely 
astonished,  so  thoroughly  surprised, 
so  exceedingly  pleased,  that  the 
tears  actually  rolled  down  her  cheeks, 
as  she  hugged  and  kissed,  and  kissed 
again,  her  dear  friend  7 

Her  joy  knew  no  bounds.  She 
was  almost  speechless  with  ecstacy. 

And  then  there  was   another   hug, 
still   other  kisses,    and    further 


vigorous  and  protracted  shaking  erf 
hands. 

After  these  demonstrations  of  de- 
light, that  had  been  admirably  acted, 
partially  ceased,  "  Miss  Martindale  " 
in  due  form  introduced  Madame 
Gibson  to  Miss  Baldwin.  But  she 
did  not  make  use  of  the  old  woman's 
right  name.  Oh,  no!  Such  a  course 
would  have  been  fatal  to  any  future 
plans,  and  Jack  Dunning  had  been 
very  careful  to  caution  her.  "  Mrs. 
Robinson  ' '  was  the  name  used  for 
the  occasion — a  name  that  was  pure 
ly  fictitious,  and  that  would  afford  no 
clue  should  after  events  require  the 
very  respectable  old  lad  y  to  retire  to 
some  secluded  city  retreat.  It  was 
not  probable  that  a  stranger  would 
remember  the  number  of  a  house, 
in  a  neighborhood  where  nearly  all 
residences  resembled  each  other ;  but 
she  would  certainly  remember  a  nanu 
— and  who  could  tell  her  of  the 
whereabouts  of  "  Mrs.  Robinson," 
when  no  such  woman  existed  ?" 

These  schemers  were  sharp,  shrewd, 
cunning ;  they  had  laid  their  plans 
deep;  they  had  prepared  for  any 
emergency;  they  were  bound  to  win, 
by  fair  means  or  by  foul ! 

"  Mrs.  Robinson"  was  exceedingly 
polite  and  entertaining  to  her  visit- 
ors, and  Miss  Bald  win  could  not  help 
but  form  a  very  favorable  opinion 
concerning  her.  The  old  woman  was 
educated,  and  well  versed  not  only 
in  the  etiquette  of  the  parlor,  but  in 
the  genial  topics  that  make  conversa- 
tion pleasant  and  one's  society  agree- 
able. 

As  for  Cranky  Ann,  she  astonished 
even  herself.  She  had  not  thought 
it  possible  for  her  to  represent  a  lady 
so  well.  It  was,  indeed,  perfection 
itself. 

And  there  are  many  more  women 
of  the  town  in  Chicago  who,  were 
they  so  disposed,  could  so  conduct 
themselves  as  to  make  many  a  reai 
lady  envious ! 

Half  an  hour  was  passed  in  an  in- 
terchange of  sentiments  that  would 
naturally  find  expression  at  a  meet- 
ing of  two  friends  who  reside  so  far 
apart  as  are  the  cities  of  New  Orleans 


42 


and  Chicago,  in  which  Miss  Baldwin 
took  small  part;  but  she  was  not  en- 
tirely neglected,  and  soon  found  her- 
self on  quite  familiar  terms  with  her 
new  acquaintance.  « 

Cranky  Ann  knew  that  Jack  Dun- 
ning was  waiting  with  all  the  pa- 
tience he  could  muster,  in  another 
part  of  the  house.  It  required  no 
great  skill  to  find  an  excuse  for  mo- 
mentarily leaving  the  parlor,  and,  as 
soon  as  she  decently  could,  she  beck 
oned  a  servant  who  was  passing 
through  the  hall,  and  followed  her 
out,  leaving;  the  old  woman  to  enter- 
tain Miss  Baldwin  while  she  sought 
Jack. 

He  was  watching  for  her.  A  door 
in  the  rear  of  the  hall  opened,  and  he 
beckoned  her  to  approach. 

The  servant,  of  course,  was  deaf, 
dumb  W^A.  blind}  They  always  are 
in  such  places. 

Jaek  was  looking  his  very  best. 
He  was  what  many  would  consider  a 
handsome  man. 

"  Crank !  is  everything  all  right  ?" 
he  whispered,  eagerly. 

"  Everything  is  O.  K.,  and  now, 
while  I  am  away,  is  the  time  for  you 
to  march  forward  and  receive  the  in- 
troduction that  you  have  so  set  your 
heart  upon." 

" Shall  I  go  into  the  parlor  now?  " 

"No;  you  had  better  go  out 
through  the  back  gate,  slip  around 
through  the  alley,  and  ring  the  front 
door-bell.  That  would  look  as  though 
you  had  been  away  all  the  time." 

"  Your  head  is  level,  Crank — I  will 
go  at  once." 

u  Wait  a  minute,  Jack!"  command- 
ed the  street  walker. 

"  What  do  you  want?"  he  inquired, 
impatiently. 

44 1  want  to  tell  you  this :  Don't  be 
too  rash ;  don't  be  impetuous;  don't 
over-act  your  part.  Make  a  favorable 
impression  if  you  can,  but  don't  go 
at  it  as  a  butcher  does  when  he  com- 
mences a,  day's  work  in  slaughtering 
beeves.  I  shall  not  have  a  chance, 
probably,  to  speak  to  you  again, 
alone,  before  we  leave  for  her  home." 

"  Is  she  going  home  to-nigkt  ?"  he 
impaired,  almost  savagely. 


"Certainly!  Why  not?  Do  yow 
expect  to  win  a  woman  in  an  hour?" 

u  I  may  not  win  her,  but  I  will 
have  her  !"  was  the  significant  reply. 

14  Yes,  but  not  to  day — not  to- 
night! There  is  plenty  of  time.  You 
and  your  mother  can  call  on  «/,  and 
after  that,  perhaps,  an  afternoon  ride 
on  the  boulevards,  and  after  that " — 

"  I  am  satisfied  with  your  plan, 
Crank!  To-day  I  meet  the  beauty! 
To-morrow  or  the  day  after  we  meet 
again!  The  following  day  a  ride! 
After  that"— 

The  smile  upon  his  face  as  he  shot 
through  the  back  door,  with  the  in- 
complete sentence  upon  his  lips,  wa» 
sardonic — it  was  devilish! 

"After  that.'"  repeated  Cranky 
Ann,  between  her  shut  teeth ;  '•  after 
that,  Jack  Dunning,  you  will  find  a 
wolf  in  your  path — a  hungry  she-wolf, 
who  would  tear  the  liver  from  your 
foul  carcass  and  feed  it,  warm  and 
dripping,  to  bitch  curs,  before  stie 
woulu  permit  you  to  harm  one  hair 
of  that  girl' s  head!  Oh,  I  am  glad 
that  I  am  a  party  to  this  unholy  and 
most  devilish  conspiracy !  I  am  glad 
that  Jack  Dunning  met  me  instead  of 
some  wretch  withaut  a  soul^  when  in 
search  ol  some  one  to  help  concoct  and 
execute  an  infamy  blacker  than  hell ! 
Guilt  and  gain,  'tis  true,  prompted 
me  to  this  wickedness!  I  did  not 
hesitate  to  sell  myself  for  a  few  pal- 
try dollars  to  assist  in  a  scheme  wor- 
thy only  of  the  queen  of  hell,  the 
devil's  wife  I  But  from  this  time 
forth,  though  I  may  seem  to  serve  my 
master,  I  will  be  the  soldier  that  will 
stand  guard  over  virtue !  Jack  Dun- 
ning shall  only  win  her  hate,  her 
contempt,  her  scorn  !  I  will  poison 
her  mind !  I  will  do  anything,  every- 
thing against  him  and  this  whorish 
slut  whom  I  have  caressed  this  hour  1 
I  will  foil  them  in  their  vile  plans — 
peaceably,  if  I  can;  but  if  not,  let 
them  beware  when  the  tigress  is  at 
bay  r 

And  when  she  returned  to  the  par- 
lor and  was  honored  with  an  intro- 
duction to  this  same  Jack  Dunning 
whom  she  had  so  bitterly  denounced, 
her  face  was  wreathed  in  smiles,  and 


43 


there  was  a  holy  calm  upon  the  brow 
that  had  been  so  recently  black  and 
furrowed  with  anger  ! 

Ah,  Cranky  Ann!  you  were  in- 
deed an  excelent  actress  that  after 
noon! 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

We  left  Harry  Harper  and  Mr. 
Baldwin  together  in  the  room  they 
had  rented  down  town — the  former 
happy  in  ihe  thought  that  the  fair 
daughter  of  his  companion  had  spoken 
of  him,  not  only  in  kindness,  but 
with  earnest  enthusiasm. 

Had  he  but  known,  at  that  instant, 
where  Josephine  Baldwin  was,  he 
would  have  prayed  God  for  the  wings 
of  an  eagle,  that  he  might  fly  to  her 
relief ! 

But  he  was  all  unconscious  that 
danger  was  hanging  like  a  threaten- 
ing cloud  over  her  innocent  head — 
that  base  conspirators  were  planning 
and  plotting  in  an  endeavor  to  en- 
trap and  ruin  her ! 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  si- 
lence in  that  room.  One  was  fondly 
and  tenderly  nursing  in  his  mind  the 
outlined  image  of  a  great  j->y;  the 
other  was  brooding  over  the  dark 
shadows  of  an  overpowering  grief. 

Mr.  Baldwin  first  broke  the  si- 
lence. 

"  Harry,"  he  said, "  when  am  I  to 
see  my  niece?" 

A  shade  passed  over  the  young 
man's  brow,  but  it  was  momentary, 
and  he  replied  seriously : 

"Mr.  Baldwin  you  are  a  much  old- 
er man  than  I  am  in  years,  but  in  ex- 
perience in  the  lower  walks  of  society 
you  are  but  a  child,  while  I  am  a 
veteran.  I'  am  sorry  that  this  unfor 
tunate  recognition  took  place,  be- 
cause it  was  a  shock  from  which  you 
will  not  soon  recover;  it  will  always 
be  a  cloud  hovering  near  you,  ready 
to  leap  between  you  and  sunshine  at 
any  time  or  in  any  place,  unless  you 
will  listen  to  calm  advice  from  so  un- 
worthy a  person  as  myself." 

44  And  what  would  you  advise,  my 
b«y?" 

There  was  a  painful  earnestness  in 


the  old  man's  gaze,  his  voice  trem- 
bled, and  it  was  with  visible  effort 
that  he  kept  back  tears  of  sorrow. 

"  You  will  not  be  offended  if  my 
language  is  plain?" 

44 1  shall  expect  you  to  speak  just 
as  you  think." 

'4 1  am  glad  you  feel  that  way,  my 
kind  friend,  because  I  would  not  lor 
the  world  say  one  word  that  would 
cause  you  unnecessary  pain.  The 
girl  that  you  recognized  is,  I  am  sor- 
ry to  say,  one  of  the  lowest  creatures 
in  this  city.  There  is  a  report  that, 
years  ago,  she  was  very  charming — * 

44  She  was  beautiful — beuutitul!" 

Harry  did  not  notice  the  interrup- 
tion, but  continued : 

44  It  is  said  that,  even  after  she  had 
been  on  the  town  lor  five  years,  she 
retained  the  fresh  appearance  of  a 
school-girl,  and  was  accorded  the  dis- 
tinction of  being  the  queen  of  the 
circle  in  which  she  moved  But  her 
charms  quickly  faded,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  Dolly  Washington — for 
that  was  the  name  by  which  she  was 
known— became  a  drunken  little  sot 
— the  most  conspicuous  among  those 
whom  the  police  are  called  upon  to 
arrest.  That  was  some  twelve  years 
or  more  ago.  Not  having  the  means 
to  pay  btr  fines,  nor  friends  when 
most  she  needed  them,  poor  Dolly 
frequently  found  herself  in  the  Bride- 
well, sometimes  for  short  terms  and 
then  again  for  long  ones.  For  two 
or  three  years  she  hardly  ever  re- 
mained at  liberty  more  than  a  week 
at  a  time.  When  drunk  she  was  very 
ugly  and  quarrelsome — so  vicious 
that  very  few  men  cared  to  meet  her, 
while  she  was  a  perfect  terror  to  those 
of  her  own  sex.  On  one  occasion, 
when  in  the  place  culled  the  4  Bull 
Pen '  at  the  old  Armory — a  little  en- 
closure where  the  prisoners,  both 
male  and  female,  were  huddled  to- 
gether, previous  to  being  called  be- 
fore the  Judge  lor  trial — D  )lly  met.a 
negro-  ^whkewasher  named  Tom  Wil- 
son, who  had  been  arrested  for  drunk- 
enness, and  who  had  plenty  of  money 
to  pay  his  fine  The  girl  was  sick, 
penniless  and  down-hea*ted.  The 
negro  took  pity  on  her,  paid  her  fine, 


44 


gave  her  a  small  sum  of  money,  and 
bought  her  an  entire  new  suit,  so 
that  she  could  present  a  neat  and 
tidy  appearance.  Dolly's  heart  was 
touched.  •  She  looked  beyond  his 
black  skin,  and  saw  only  the  kind 
heart  that  beat  in  the  bosom  of  the 
whitewasher.  -  really  believe  that 
she  loved  him  from  that  hour.  la 
less  than  a  week  they  were  married, 
and  for  a  year  or  more  they  lived 
happily  and  contentedly  together. 
During  that  time  a  child  was  born — 
as  beautiful  a  babe  as  I  ever  saw. 
Shortly  after  that  Dolly's  appetite 
fa/  strong  drink  overcame  her,  and  a 
fearful  quarrel  with  her  husband  was 
the  result.  Both  were  arrested,  but 
the  little  yellow  innocent  that  she 
held  in  her  arms,  together  with  sol- 
emn promises  of  future  good  behavior, 
secured  their  discharge.  A  recon- 
ciliation had  taken  place  in  the  same 
'  Bull  Pen '  that  brought  them  togeth- 
er at  first,  and  Tom  and  his  white 
wife  went  happily  back  to  their  home. 
Since  then  they  have  lived  peaceably 
and  at  war  at  stated  intervals.  Tom 
was  very  jealous  at  first,  and  has 
many  a  time  threatened  to  kill  nig- 
gers and  white  men  who  have  paid  un- 
due attention  to  his  dear  Dolly,  but 
time  has  produced  a  change,  and  now 
he  permits  her  to  do  just  about  as 
she  pleases,  frequently  going  with 
him  himself  to  just  such  places  as  old 
Black  Dan's  dance  house." 

Harry  paused  for  a  full  minute, 
expecting  to  hear  something  from  the 
old  gentleman.  But  Mr.  Baldwin 
did  not  open  his  lips.  His  bowed 
head  rested  upon  his  hands,  and  his 
mind  was  deep  in  thought.  Harry 
continued : 

"  Mr.  Baldwin,  I  have  given  you  a 
brief  outline  of  the  history  of  this 
unfortunate  young  woman,  whom  you 
believe  to  be  your  sister's  child." 

"  Believe !"  exclaimed  the  aroused 
listener,  "  I  know  she  is!  I  would 
swear  to  it!"  ' 

**  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  know  it, 
too,' 're  plied  Harry.  "She  told  me  this 
afternoon  that  she  had  seen  her  lath- 
er, her  mother  and  her  uncle  within 
two  weeks,  but  that  she  wouM  not 


have    them    recognize    her  for   the 
world." 

"  You  have  seen  her,  Harry  ? 
Where?" 

"  At  her  home." 

"  Then  you  know  where  the  poor 
child  lives!" 

"  She  lives  within  four  blocks  ot 
the  spot  where  we  now  stand." 

"  Then  let  us  go  to  her  at  once!" 

The  old  gentleman  was  excited. 

'•  I  do  not  think  we  had  better  go, 
Mr.  Baldwin,"  was  Harry's  calm  re- 
sponse. 

"Not  go?  Not  rescue  my  niece 
from  worse  thaj  death?"  gasped  the 
merchant,  in  amazement. 

"You  could 'not  rescue  her,"  was 
the  confident  reply. 

"  Why  not — why  not?" 

"  Because,  Mr.  Baldwin,  she  loves 
her  children,  she  loves  her  home,  and 
she  loves  her  husband  /" 

The  old  merchant  groaned. 

"  How  do  you  know  this  ?"  he  said, 
with  quivering  voice. 

"Because  she  told  me  so." 

"  You  did  not  betray  me?  You 
did  not  tell  her  you  had  found  her 
relatives?" 

"  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  be 
guilty  of  so  base  an  act !" 

"  Then  tell  me  how  you  came  by 
this  knowledge." 

"  I  will  do  so,  gladly.  Your  neice 
lives  in  the  basement  of  a  house  of 
ill  tame  known  as  the  Long  Branch, 
on  Van  Buren  street,  west  of  Clark — 
a  long,  narrow,  one-story -and-base- 
ment  wooden  building,  occupied 
above  by  white  prostitutes  and  be 
low  by  poor  negro  families.  After 
the  discovery  made  by  me  last  night, 
I  determined  to  seek  her  out,  and  sat- 
isfy myself  as  to  whether  anything 
could  be  done  that  would  better  her 
condition.  I  found  her  surrounded 
by  her  little  ones,  and  seemingly  per- 
fectly happv.  She  received  me  cor- 
dially, and  we  had  a  long  talk.  I 
told  her  that  there  were  reports  going 
the  rounds  that  her  parents  and  rel- 
atives were  people  of  high  respecta- 
bility, and  she  candidly  confessed 
that  these  reports  were  true,  and  told 
me  enough  to  convince  me  that  she 


knows  you  all.  I  then  said, '  Dolly, 
suppose  your  people  would  overlook 
the  past,  and  welcome  you  with  open 
arms  to  the  old  home  that  you  de- 
serted, what  would  you  say?'  'What 
should  I  say,  Harry  ?'  was  her  ques- 
tioning reply ; '  I'll  tell  you  what  I'd 
say— it  would  be,  never  T  'Why 
not  ?  '  I  inquired.  *  Harry  Harper,' 
she  replied,  '  look  at  me  !  What  sort 
of  a  lady  would  I  make,  in  my  fath- 
er's parlor,  with  these  nigger  children 
on  one  side,  and  Tom  Wilson,  the 
white  washer,  on  the  other  ?'  '  But  it 
would  not  be  necessary  to  take  them 
with  you,'  I  said, '  they  could  be  pro 
vided  for  elsewhere.'  'What!'  she 
exclaimed,  '  do  you  think  I  would 
separate  trom  my  little  ones,  or  my 
Tom  ?  No  /  These  are  my  pets ;  I 
am  their  mother,  and  God  knows  I 
love  them.  Tom  is  black,  I  know ; 
but  he  took  me  when  I  was  down ;  he 
saved  me  from  hardship  and  prison ; 
he  has  been  good  to  me;  he  has  over- 
looked faults  that  a  white  man  would 
never  forgive ;  and  were  his  skin  ten 
times  blacker,  I  would  love  him  just 
the  same,  for  his  heart  is  white  !  I 
am  satisfied  with  my  condition.  I 
am  happy  here.  Would  I,  could  I 
say  as  much  if  I  should  tell  these 
children  that  I  brought  into  the  world 
that  they  were  black  brats,  that  their 
father  was  a  low-down  nigger,  and  that 
I  was  a  born  lady,  and  would  return 
to  the  luxuries  of  my  avenue  home  ?' 
I  tell  you,  Mr.  Baldwin,  that  girl 
spoke  with  an  eloquent  tongue,  and 
I  could  make  no  answer.  You  know 
it  all  now." 

The  merchant  could  hardly  speak, 
so  powerful  were  his  emotions.  But 
at  length  he  found  his  voice. 

"  Harry,"  he  said,  sadly,  "  the  girl 
is  right!  Much  as  I  could  wish  to 
rescue  her  from  that  den  in  which  she 
lives,  I  would  not  do  it  even  if  she 
should  consent,  for  I  know  it  would 
make  her  miserably  unhappy ;  and  I 
feel,  too,  that  it  would  be  an  act  that 
God  would  frown  upon  to  take  a 
mother  from  her  children  or  a  wife 
from  her  husband.  '  Let  her  live  as 
she  has  lived ;  let  her  be  happy  if  she 
can ;  but  if  •  must  look  after  her,  trid 


see  that  she  never  comes  to  want." 
"  I  am  glad  you  feel  that  way,"  was 
Harry's    response.    A   heavy    load 
had  been  lifted  from  his  mind. 

He  shortly  after  left  the  room, 
promising  to  return  at  an  early  hour 
in  the  evening,  when  the  two  would 
take  a  stroll  under  the  gaslight. 


CHAPTER  XVJII. 

Cranky  Ann  and  Josephine  made 
quite  a  lengthy  call  at  the  residence 
of  "  Mrs.  Robinson,"  but  they  left 
for  home  long  before  dark. 

Madame  Gibson  had  exerted  her- 
self to  the  utmost  to  make  the  callers 
feel  that  they  were  welcome  in  the 
broadest  sense  of  the  word;  and 
when  they  left,  both  the  old  lady  and 
her  "son"  were  eloquent  in  their  im- 
portunities for  a  renewal  of  the  ac- 
acquaintance  so  auspiciously  begun. 
UpOQ  the  invitation  of  Miss  Baldwin, 
and  the  eager  solicitation  of  u  Miss 
Martindale,"  it  was  arranged  that 
mother  and  son  should  call  at  the 
Baldwin  mansion  on  the  following 
Monday,  (the  Sabbath  only  interven- 
ing-) 

"  They  seem  to  be  extremely  pleas- 
ant people,  do  they  not  ?"  said  Miss 
B  to  her  companion,  as  they  leisure 
ly  proceeded  homeward. 

Crank  hesitated. 

"  The  lady  does  seem  to  be  very 
agreeable  and  entertaining,"  she 
finally  replied. 

"The  lady  does!  Why,  you  seem 
to  ignore  her  son  altogether." 

"  I  am  a  very  candid  woman,  Miss 
Baldwin,  and  plain  of  speech,  and  if 
I  should  express  to  you  my  opinion 
of  the  young  man  of  whom  you  have 
spoken,  I  am  afraid  you  would  con- 
sider me  not  only  vulgar  and  rude, 
but  impudent  and  offensive." 

"  By  no  means  1  These  are  people 
that  neither  one  of  us  have  seen  be- 
fore, and  if  you  have  discovered  any- 
thing out  of  the  way,  or  even  sus- 
picious, it  is  your  duty  to  make  me 
your  confidante." 

"  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  seen  any 
thing  out  of  the  way,  Miss  Baldwin; 
but  I  have  never  yet  been  deceived 


47 


in  a  human  face  !  I  can  read  the  mind 
of  man  or  woman  with  rare  accu- 
racy." 

u  And  what,  pray  tell  me,  did  you 
read  in  the  mind  of  young  Mr.  Rob- 
inson ?" 

"  I  would  not  dare  to  tell  you  all  I 
read  !" 

Miss  Baldwin  was  getting  inter- 
ested. 

"  Why,  Miss  Martindale,"  she  said, 
"  you  talk  as  though  there  was  some- 
thing terrible  about  this  handsome 
sonof  your  friend.  Asforme,  Imust 
confess  that  he  interested  and  pleased 
me  very  much.  He  is  polite,  gen- 
teel, pleasant,  attentive,  sociable,  and 
a  gifted  conversationalist.  Now, 
what  else  could  be  desired?" 

"  He  is  all  that,  Miss  Baldwin,  I 
must  confess,"  returned  Crank,  "but 
ihe  is,  too,  something  more  than  that ! 
Oh,  if  you  knew  what  I  know  !  " 

"  You  alarm  me  !  Did  you  ever 
see  him  before?" 

\  Crank  had  gone  further  than  she 
had  intended  to;  but  she  was  equal 
to  the  emergency. 

"  Why,  no  !  Of  course  I  never 
saw  him  before,  and  perhaps  I  ought 
not  to  have  spoken  as  I  did.  Some- 
times I  forget  myself,  and  talk  of 
things  as  positive  facts  that  are  merely 
conjectures  of  mind.  Whenever  I 
wish  to  do  so,  I  really  believe  I  can 
tell  exactly  what  a  person  is  thinking 
of." 

Miss  Baldwin  looked  at  Crank  cu- 
riously. 

"  Will  you  permit  me  to  put  you 
to  the  test  ?"  she  inquired. 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  was  Crank's 
reply,  but  she  felt  uneasy — she  was 
was  getting  into  deep  water,  and 
could  not  swim. 

"Then tell  me  this:  What  am  I 
thinking  about  now  ?" 

Cranky  Ann  fixed  upon  Josephine 
a  penetrating  gaze,  as  though  she 
would  read  her  very  soul.  She  then 
said  in  very  solemn  tones : 

"  Miss  Baldwin,  I  have  read  your 
mind !  Were  you  to  speak  your 
thoughts  at  this  moment  your  words 
would  be :  *  Is  this  woman  sane  or  is 
she  crazy  ?'  " 


Josephine  Baldwin  came  very  near 
staggering,  and  she  certainly  turned 
very  pale. 

"  Word  for  word!"  was  all  she  said 
in  reply,  and  there  was  a  pause;  but 
her  mind  quickly  rallied,  and  she 
turned  toward  Cranky  Ann  with 
great  earnestness  and  said : 

»*  Miss  Martindale,  I  believe  you 
are  gifted  with  wonderful  powers  of 
penetration,  to  say  the  least.  You 
repeated  to  me  my  very  thoughts, 
though  I  lisped  not  a  syllable.  If 
you  can  thus  read  my  mind,  you  can 
with  equal  certainty  read  his.  You 
have  made  use  of  expressions  that 
are  calculated  to  alarm  me.  You 
have  indicated  to  me  that  there  is 
something  about  him  that  is  mys- 
terious, if  not  dangerous.  Now,  my 
friend,  tell  me  his  thoughts  this  after- 
noon !" 

She  had  taken  the  arm  of  her  com- 
panion, and  was  looking  steadily, 
searchingly,  pleadingly  into  her  face. 

Crank  hesitated  a  moment,  and 
then  said: 

*'  Miss  Baldwin,  did  you  ever  see 
a  beautiful  snake  ?  " 

The  young  lady  shuddered. 

"  I  have  seen  serpents  that  were 
beautiful,  and  yet  they  were  hideous 
— they  were  repulsive,"  she  said  in 
reply. 

"But  they  were  not  more  repulsive 
than  this  accomplished  gentleman 
would  be  to  you,  could  >ou  look 
with  my  eyes." 

"You  have  not  answered  my 
question — what  were  his  thoughts  ?" 

"  I  cannot  repeat  them !" 

"  What  were  their  nature  ?" 

"  Deceit  /  Treachery  !  Lust!" 

"  And  yet  you  did  not  repel  him  ? 
You  even  inviied  him  to  visit  us  at 
our  house !" 

"  Miss  Baldwin,"  replied  Crank, 
"  this  man  acted  like  a  gentleman ;  I 
assume  to  be  a  lady ;  how,  then,  could 
I  have  done  otherwise  ?" 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Josephine,  re- 
flectively ;  "  it  is  possible  that  you 
were  mistaken,  and  in  that  event  you 
would  have  wronged  one  who  is  in- 
nocent. But  we  will  have  another 
opportunity  to  read  this  man,  and  I 


4ft 


will  m3*sen  take  observations  on  the 
sly."   " 

The  residence  of  Mr.  Baldwin  was 
reached  without  further  conversation 
of  interest. 

Upon  entering  the  parlor,  a  servant 
handed  Cranky  Ann  a  letter,  with  a 
city  post  mark,  addressed  to  "  Miss 
Isabella  Martindale,  care  Alanson 
Baldwin,  No.  —  Wabash  avenue." 
It  read  as  follows: 

**  PALMER  HOUSE,  Saturday. — Miss 
Martindale :  A  lady  now  stopping  at 
our  hotel  requests  me  to  invite  you 
to  call  upon  her  without  delay.  She 
is  a  friend  of  yours  from  the  South. 

CLERK. 

"I  wonder  who  this  can  be?" 
mnsed  Crank,  as  she  handed  the  note 
to  Josephine  for  perusal. 

"Oh!"  she  continued,  "I  know! 
It's  my  cousin  Anna,  and  she  gave  no 
name  because  she  wanted  to  surprise 
me  1  Oh,  I  must  go  right  off  and 
meet  her!  We  shall  go  to  the  the- 
atre to-night,  and  I  don't  believe  I 
can  possibly  get  away  from  her  be- 
fore Monday!"  9 

The  decietful  girl  had  written  the 
note  herself.  She  wanted  to  get 
away  from  her  prison — to  pull  off 
the  mask — to  be  herself  for  a  short 
time,  at  least. 

Miss  Baldwin  was  very  sorry  to 
lose  the  companionship  of  her  visitor, 
and  so  expressed  herself;  but  she 
could  interpose  no  objection,  and 
in  a  very  short  time  Cranky  Ann 
was  in  her  own  room,  with  her  gor- 
geous garments  laid  aside,  her  face 
painted,  her  hair  frizzed,  and  attired 
in  an  old  wardrobe. 

Later  in  the  evening  she  sauntered 
out. 

"  There  are  two  men  that  I  don't 
want  to  meet  to-night — Jack  Dun- 
ning and  the  old  man  I  saw  for  the 
second  time  this  afternoon,"  she  said, 
proceeding  leisurely  along. 

She  had  scarcely  walked  a  block 
when  she  came  to  a  sudden  halt,  and 
quickly  dodged  into  a  hall  way.  The 
next  minute  Harry  Harper  and  Mr. 
Baldwin  passed. 

"  I  wonder  who  that  man  is  ?*'  said 
Crank,  as  she  gazed  alter  them ;  "the 


first  time  I  met  him,  Harry  Harper 
was  near  by,  and  now  I  find  them 
together,  as  familiar  as  father  and  son  1 
There's  something  up,  and  old  Crank 
will  not  be  many  days  older  before 
she  finds  out  all  about  it!"  - 

And  she  proceeded  down  the  street, 
all  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  she 
would  meet  with  an  exciting  adven- 
ture that  very  night  1 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Mr.  Baldwin  felt  greatly  relieved 
in  mind  after  he  had  heard  the  state- 
ment made  by  Harry  Harper  concern- 
ing Dolly  Washington.  He  regret- 
ted, of  course,  that  a  niece  of  his 
should  have  descended  to  such  deg- 
radation ;  but  he  admired  the  courage 
with  which  she  clung  to  her  offspring, 
and  to  the  black  man  she  so  foolish- 
ly consented  to  marry.  Knowing 
that  Dolly  was  happy  and  contented, 
he  dismissed  her  for  the  time  being 
from  his  thoughts,  inwardly  deter- 
mining that,  further  than  assisting 
her  in  case  of  need,  he  would  never 
interfere  between  her  and  hers.  • 

"This  is  Saturday  night,"  said 
Harry  to  Mr.  Baldwin,  that  evening, 
after  they  had  partaken  of  a  substan- 
tial supper  at  a  famous  restaurant. 

**  I  was  aware  of  that  fact,"  said 
the  merchant,  complacently ;  "  but  I 
did  not  consider  it  of  enough  impor 
tance  for  special  mention.  Is  there 
anything  very  peculiar  about  Satur- 
day night?" 

"  Nothing:  very  peculiar,  but  in  my 
experience  I  have  found  it  much 
livelier  around  town  on  that  evening 
of  the  week  than  on  any  other.  Mon- 
ey is  more  plentiful  and  more  peo- 
ple are  at  leisure." 

"  Have  you  the  programme  marked 
out  for  to-night,  Harry  ?" 

"I  have  been  thinking  over  the 
matter  for  a  few  minutes.  I  guess 
we'd  better  take  in  two  different 
kinds  of  wickedness — Sin  in  Siik  and 
Chicago  Under  Ground"  • 

"  Very  well ;  and  let  me  assure  you 
of  this,  Harry — I  shall  be  astonished 
at  nothing  that  I  shall  see.  My  eyea 
are  getting  wide  open  already." 


49 


Later  in  the  evening  the  .two 
leisurely  walked  down  State  street 
Alter  they  had  passed  Van  Buren 
Harry  said: 

44  Did  you  see  that  woman  dodge 
into  a  hall-way?" 

'•I  thought  I  saw  a  petticoat  flut- 
tering, but  paid  no  attention  to  it." 

"  That  was  yonr  friend,  Cranky 
Ann,  the  girl  so  full  of  wonderful 
mysteries.  Ah!  my  friend,  I  am 
afraid  you  will  have  tough  work  in 
making  anything  but  a  hardened  old 
street- walker  out  of  that  piece  of  baa 
flesh." 

"  At  any  rate,  Harry,  there  can  be 
no  harm  in  trying.  The  more  aban- 
doned the  wretch,  the  more  the  ne- 
cessity for  putting  forth  an  effort  in 
her  behalf.  I  have  faith  that  I  can  do 
that  woman  good." 

"  We  shall  see  what  we  shall  see," 
was  Harry's  rather  incredulous  re- 
mark, as  they  passed  on  down  the 
street,  turning  on  Harrison  and  pro- 
ceeding to  Fourth  avenue.  There 
they  took  another  turn  to  the  north, 
when  the  old  gentleman  remonstra- 
ted: 

"  Why,  Harry,  you  seem  to  be 
taking  the  back  track.  Are  you 
about  to  return  to  where  we  started 
fron?" 

"Not  exactly,"  was  the  reply; 
"  you  have  not  far  to  go." 

Scarcely  had  they  ceased  speaking 
when  they  found  themselves  in  front 
of  a  mammoth  stone  front  four-story 
building. 

"  We  will  make  a  short  call  here," 
said,  Harry,  at  the  same  time  mount- 
ing the  stone  steps  leading  to  the 
front  door. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Mr.  Baldwin 
"  if  you  have  friends  here  that  you 
wish  to  see,  I  will  wait  for  you  on  the 
outside.  I  am  not  in  condition  to 
appear  in  respectable  society  1" 

"  The  society  that  you  will  meet 
here  will  not  object  to  your  appear- 
ance. This  is  not  what  is  called  a 
respectable  house.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  elegant  palaces  of  sin  in  this 
country,  owned  by  a  woman  who 
might  now  be  one  of  the  finest  ladies 


in  the  land,  had  she  not  been  in  hard 
luck,  as  we  sporting  folks  call  it." 

Expressing  surprise  that  so  grand 
a  structure  should  be  devoted  to  so 
foul  a  purpose,  Mr.  Baldwin  hesitated 
no  longer. 

The  merchant  had  determined,  no 
matter  what  he  saw,  not  to  allow 
himself  to  seem  astonished;  but  when, 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  looked 
upon  Sin  in  Silk,  he  became  confused 
and  bewildered. 

And  well  he  might  be  1 

The  grand  hall,  with  mirrors  reach- 
ing to  the  high  ceiling;  one  hundred 
feet  of  parlors,  connected  by  folding 
doors  that,  when  opened,  combined 
the  whole  into  one  immense  room; 
the  walls  adorned  with  hundreds  of 
oil  paintings,  of  great  value;  the  spot- 
less ceilings  frescoed  with  the  match- 
less taste  of  an  unequalled  artist;  the 
carved  furniture  ornamented  with 
miniature  paintings  of  chaste  design ; 
the  velvet  carpets  soft  and  pliant  to 
the  foot's  touch;  and  all  the  surround- 
ings grand  beyond  description. 

But  this  was  nothing ;  ne  had  seen 
elegance  before.  That  which  so  as- 
tonished him  was  the  presence  of  a 
dozen  or  more  magnificently  dressed 
women — women  as  beautiful  and 
lovely  in  appearance  as  any  ladies 
that  he  had  ever  met  in  his  life. 
Among  them  was  one  that  partic- 
ularly attracted  his  attention.  She 
wore  skirts  that  reached  to  the  knees 
only,  and  really  looked  to  be  but  a 
mere  child.  The  "ladies  *  who  were 
lounging  about  in  the  hall,  approached 
as  Harry  and  Mr.  Baldwin  entered, 
and  the  "  child  "  singled  out  the  old 
gentleman,  clasped  her  fair  arms 
around  his  neck,  pulled  down  his 
head,  and  kissed  him  ! 

Mr.  Baldwin  had  recovered  his 
equinimity,  and  not  only  made  no 
objection,  but  Harry,  who  had 
watched  the  movement  with  an 
amused  smile,  could  have  sworn  that 
the  kiss  was  returned  with  commen- 
dable warmth.  Proceeding  to  the 
back  parlor,  they  seated  themselves 
in  close  proximity,  and  without  cere- 
mony entered  into  animated  conver- 


50 


sation,  the  nature  of  which  will  form 
a  separate  chapter  in  this  romance. 

In  the  meantime,  Harry,  who  was 
always  a  favorite  with  the  ladies, 
made  himself  agreeable  in  his  own 
"  sweet"  way,  and  time  passed  rap- 
idly. 

Visitors  came  and  departed.  The 
merry  popping  of  the  wine  cork  was 
frequently  heard,  and  Madame  Wil- 
liams, the  keeper  of  the  house,  was 
happy. 

Harry  was  seated  on  a  lounge  in 
the  hall,  and  of  course  all  who  came 
in  were  compelled  to  pass  in  review 
before  him.  The  bell  rang,  and  with 
natural  curiosity,  when  the  door 
opened,  he  glanced  at  the  face  of  the 
visitor. 

"My  God  !"  he  exclaimed,  as  his 
eyes  tell  upon  the  person  who  had 
entered. 

It  was  Jeremiah  Baldwin,  son  of 
the  merchant ! 

A  girl  sprang  forward  as  he  en- 
tered, to  welcome  "her  Charley,"  as 
she  called  him,  and  arm  in  arm,  in 
very  loving  contiguity,  they  walked 
down  the  hall,  toward  the  very  par- 
lor wht  re  sat  the  old  gentleman  on 
the  same  sofa  with  the  short  skirt 
ed"  child." 

"  They  must  not  meet,"  Harry 
thought  as  he  quickly  arose  and  fol- 
lowed. 

But  he  was  not  quick  enough. 
They  were  in  the  door  before  he 
reached  them.  Hoping  that  the  old 
gentleman  was  so  busily  engaged  in 
talking  that  he  would  not  recognize 
his  son,  Harry  fairly  pulled  him  back 
by  main  strength,  and  whispered : 

"  I  wieh  to  speak  to  you  in  private 
for  one  moment." 

For  an  instant  young  Baldwin 
turned  red  in  the  face,  and  stammered. 
But  it  was  only  an  instant.  Extend- 
ing his  hand,  he  said,  frankly: 

"  Harry,  I  confess  that  I  would  not 
have  cared  to  meet  you  here ;  but  as 
we  have  met,  I  will  not  attempt  to 
deny  that  I  come  here  whenever  I 
(eel  like  it,  and  that  I  am  really  not 
:ishamed  to  own  it,  although  it  would 
be  mqre  pleasant  to  meet  none  but 
strangers." 


"  It  was  not  that  to  which  I  had 
reference,"  returned  Harry;  "  I  con 
sider  that  it  is  neither  my  business, 
nor  that  of  anybody  else,  where  you 
go  or  what  you  do.  But  I  have  a 
particular  friend  in  that  parlor,  who 
would  prefer  to  be  alone ;  and  it  you 
and  your  lady  would  occupy  this 
room,  you  would  greatly  oblige 
me." 

"  Most  certainly  we  will !  I  would 
not  for  the  world  disturb  your  friend 
in  any  little  flirtation  that  he  may 
wish  to  have  with  any  of  Madame 
Williams'  fair  boarders." 

"Thank  you,  Charley"  said  Har- 
ry, with  a  smile. 

He  turned,  and  there,  not  two  feet 
from  them,  standing  in  the  door, 
stood  Alanson  Baldwin!  He  had 
heard  the  entire  conversation! 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  meeting  of  father  and  son  in 
the  house  of  Madame  Williams  was 
such  a  surprise  as  the  old  gentleman 
had  never  before  experienced.  At 
first  he  was  shocked ;  but  he  brought 
all  the  resolution  that  he  could  com- 
mand to  his  aid,  and,  suppressing  his 
emotions,  determined  to  learn  the 
full  extent  of  his  son's  sinfulness. 

As  has  been  stated,  he  listened  to 
the  conversation  between  Harry  and 
his  boy. 

Extending  his  hand  cordially,  and 
grasping  that  of  the  younger  Bald- 
win, he  said,  with  forced  hilarity: 

" 1  am  always  glad  to  shake  the 
hand  of  any  friend  of  Harry  Harper ! 
Come,  now,  boys,  and  you  too,  my 
fair  bundle  of  loveliness,  let's  ad- 
journ to  the  back  parlor  and  test  the 
quality  of  Madame  Williams'  wine!" 

Harry  was  the  most  astonished  in 
dividual  in  that  party.     He  had  ex- 
pected a  "  scene,"  and    could  only 
wonder  in  amazement  at   the   unex- 
pected jollity  of  the  merchant. 

The  wine  was  brought  by  a  colored 
seivant,  and  all  drank. 

Harry  felt  uneasy,  as  he  detected 
a  strange  gleam  in  the  eyes  of  the 
father  as  he  touched  glasses  with  his 
eon  under  such  remarkable  circum- 


51 


stances.  But  he  had  no  opportunity 
to  interfere,  even  if  he  had  felt  in- 
clined ;  and,  believing  that  it  would 
be  better  to  let  them  talk  it  out,  he 
managed  to  attract  the  attention  of 
the  two  girls. 

The  old  man  noticed  this  with  a 
smile  ot  approval. 

"Do  you  reside  in  the  city?"  in- 
quired Jerry,  as  they  took  seats  on 
a  sofa. 

"  Well,  I  am  here  part  of  the  time, 
and  away  the  other  part.  But  by 
the  way,  your  face  looks  familiar.  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  have  seen  you 
before." 

"  And  then  he  whispered: 
.  "  Are    you    not    old     Baldwin's 
^on  ?" 

"Hush!  "was  the  reply;  "I  see 
that  you  recognize  me,  and  your 
voice  seems  familiar,  though  I  cannot 
recall  your  features  !  But  do  not 
call  me  by  my  right  name  here, 
where  I  am  known  simply  as  Charley. 
How  long  have  you  been  acquainted 
with  my  father  ?" 

"  We  were  inseparable  companions 
for  years!" 

"  Indeed !  It  is  strange  that  I  never 
met  you  before!  But  I  am  so  busy 
at  the  store  that  I  may  have  met  and 
forgotten  you.  One  thing,  however, 
I  must  ask  of  you,  and  I  am  sure  you 
will  not  refuse — that  you  will  not 
mention  this  meeting  to  my  father." 

"  Not  for  the   world!     But   sup 
pose  the  old  man  should  find  it  oat? 
What  would  you  say?    What  would 
you  do  ?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  I  would  say, 
and  wlnt  I  would  do!  I  would  talk 
and  act  like  a  man  !  I  would  deny 
nothing,  but  I  w6uld  justify  myself 
so  clearly  that  I  know  he  would  not 
have  one  word  of  censure!" 

"  My  young  friend,  you  speak  like 
a  man  who  believes  what  he  utters, 
and  yet  you  talk  wildly.  Would  you 
dare  stand  face  to  face  with  your  own 
father,  and  attempt  to  make  any  ex- 
cuse for  being  found  in  a  house  of 
this  kind  ?" 

"  Not  only  with  my  father,  sir,  but 
with  my  God!" 

"  I  believe  you  are  sincere  in  what 


you  say,  but  I  cannot  but  think  that 
you  have  permitted  yourself  to  be 
influenced  by  false  and  dangerous 
arguments.  Tell  me,  now,  my  boy, 
what  would  you  say  to  me,  suppo- 
sing that  I  were  your  father?" 

"  That  would  be  impossible,  sir  ! 
My  father  would  sooner  cut  off  his 
right  arm  than  visit  a  place  of  this 
kind!" 

"  Are you  sure  of  that?" 

"  Sure  of  it  ?  I  am  so  sure  that  I 
would  wager  my  existence  that  he 
was  never  in  all  his  life  within  the 
walls  of  a  house  of  infamy!" 

"  But  supposing  that  I  should  tell 
yoi}  that  I  have  seen  your  father  buy 
wine  for  a  party  of  revelers  in  this 
very  room — what  would  you  say 
then  ?" 

"  I  would  say,"  exclaimed  the 
young  man,  springing  to  his  feet, 
greatly  excited,  "  I  would  say  this : 
You  are  a  liar  and  a  dog  /" 

He  raised  his  hand  to  strike,  but 
quicker  than  thought  Harry  Harper 
was  between  them. 

The  merchant  did  not  even  arise 
from  his  seat;  but  he  was  deeply 
moved,  for  there  were  tears  in  his 
eyes! 

"  Let  him  strike,  Harry,  let  him 
strike."  he  said,  with  broken  accents, 
"for  I  deserve  blows  for  my  cruel 
words.  Young  man,  (addressing  his 
son),  I  beg  your  pardon;  I  went  too 
far,  in  an  attempt  to  produce  a  forc- 
ible illustration." 

Jeremiah  Baldwin's  impulsive  na- 
ture was  subdued  in  an  instant,  and 
he  expressed  regret  for  his  violent 
manifestations  of  a  moment  before. 

"  Tell  me  the  illustration  you  allu- 
ded to,"  he  said,  resuming  his  seat. 

"  It  was  this :  Your  father,  I  know, 
has  unbounded  confidence  in  your 
honesty  and  integrity.  He  believes 
you  to  be  the  ver  •  soul  of  honor. 
He  would  to-morrow  place  his  entiiv 
fortune  in  your  hands,  and  feel  as 
safe  as  though  it  was  under  lock  and 
key  in  his  own  home.  Suppose  some 
meddling  mischief-maker  shou'd  g  > 
to  him  and  remark,  '  I  saw  your  son 
in  a  house  ot  ill  fame  last  night," 


52 


gentle- 


He 


what  do  you  think  the  oM 
man  would  say  ?"   9 

The  young    man    hesitated, 
tried  to  speak,  but  could  not. 

"He  would  not  probably  be  as 
demonstrative  as  his  son,  but  would 
he  not  be  equally  as  indignant?" 

"  I  believe  he  would,"  was  the  re- 
sponse, "but  I  also  believe  that,  after 
he  heard  what  his  son  had  to  say  in 
his  own  defense,  he  would  think  long 
before  he  would  utter  one  wcrd  ot 
censure  or  reproach." 

"  I  have  a  curiosity  to  know  what 
would  be  the  nature  of  that  defense," 
said  the  merchant,  with  a  tone  of  in- 
quiry in  his  voice. 

"It  would  take  a  long  time  for 
me  to  give  my  views  at  length,  but  I 
can  give  you  an  outline  briefly." 

"  Go  on,  I  am  all  attention."  And 
the  old  gentleman  settled  back  in  his 
seat  preparatory  to  hearing  that 
which  seemed  to  interest  him  so- 
deeply. 

«  CHAPTER  XX. 

Harry  Harper,  though  he  had  been 
industriously  engaging  the  attention 
of  the  ladies,  after  lather  and  son  had 
become  reconciled,  felt  something 
more  than  natural  curiosity  concern 
ing  the  nature  of  the  strange  inter- 
view, and  his  quick  ears  were  active 
in  taking  in,  as  completely  as  possible, 
all  that  was  said.  The  girls,  too, 
finally  became  interested  in  what  was 
being  said  on  the  other  side  of  the 
room,  and,  naturally  enough,  young 
Baldwin's  audience  was  more  atten- 
tive than  he  probably  would  have 
desired. 

"  I  told  you  that  I  should  be  very 
brief,"  said  the  young  man,  reflec- 
tively, "  but  the  fact  that  you  are  so 
well  acquainted  with  my  father  makes 
it  necessary  that  I  should  the  more 
carefully  explain  to  you  my  defense 
in  being  found  in  a  place  ot  this  kind. 
I  might  tell  you  a  lie,  and  say  that  I 
was  innocently  betrayed  into  com- 
ing here  by  companions  in  whom 
I  blindly  •trusted;  but  I  would 
scorn  to  descend  to  such  cow- 
ardice. I  have  been  here  many 


times  before,  and  I  came  with  a  full 
knowledge  of  the  character  of  the 
house.  Why  did  I  come  ?  you  may 
ask.  I  can  only  tell  you  in  reply, 
that  I  came  for  the  same  reason  per- 
haps that  you  did — that  others  do 
who  frequent  houses  where  charac- 
less  young  women  flaunt  their  charms 
in  the  face  of  he  who  visits,  and  are 
ever  ready  to  sell  themselves  for 
money.  If,  instead  of  being  a  man 
ot  the  world,  you  were  what  they  call 
a  strictly  moral  citizen,  you  would 
hold  up  both  hands  in  horror,  and 
turn  from  me  with  pious  disgust, 
without  hearing  one  more  word. 
That  you  are  here  now  is  proof  that 
you  are  not  a  person  of  that  stripe." 

The  old  gentleman  was  a  little  un- 
easy in  his  seat,  but  he  said  nothing, 
and  his  son  continued : 

"  The  history  of  prostitution  com- 
menced, I  might  say,  with  the  his- 
tory of  the  world.  The  first  sin  ever 
committed  was  the  sin  of  lust.  It 
was  followed  by  banishment,  lust  as 
it  is  to-day,  with  this  exception: 
the  Creator  made  no  distinction  be- 
tween man  and  woman;  while  we, 
more  wise  than  He,  exalt  the  strong 
man,  and  condemn  to  everlasting  in 
famy  the  weak  woman!  During  all 
the  succeeding  thousands  of  years, 
it  has  existed  in  one  form  or  another, 
and  to-day  we  find  it  in  Cnicago,  as 
well  regulated,  I  think,  as  it  is  pos- 
sible to  regulate  an  acknowledged 
yet  ineradicable  evil.  There  is  not 
an  officer,  high  or  low,  in  the  city  of 
Chicago,  who  does  not  know  that 
this  is  a  house  of  ill-fame — and  yet 
it  is  never  molested.  Why  ?  Sim- 
ply because  it  ought  not  to  be.  No 
thief,  no  loafer,  no  outlaw  of  any 
kind,  is  tolerated  here.  No  one  is  as- 
saulted, or  insulted,  or  robbed  here. 
You  are  now  as  safe  as  you  would 
be  in  the  best  hotel  in  the  city. 
Knowing  that  it  is  useless  to  attempt 
to  abate  the  social  evil,  the  author- 
ities confine  themselves  to  an  earnest 
endeavor  to  blot  out  its  most  objec- 
tionable features,  and  as  far  as  pos- 
sible conceal  its  hideousness  from  the 
public  gaze.  I  have  now  told  you 
the  reasons  for  the  existence  of  houses 


53 


of  this  kind,  and  I  have  acknowl- 
edged my  object  in  coming  here.  I 
have  told  you,  too,  that  I  have  a  de 
fense,  and  I  have — a  good  one.  You 
read  the  daily  papers,  of  course.  Take 
up  the  Times,  for  instance,  any  morn- 
ing of  the  seven  in  the  week,  and 
glance  down  the  calendar.  What 
will  you  see  ?  *  Every  other  heading 
will  be :  « Suicide  /'  '  Seduction  /' 

*  Desertion  /'     'A  bortion  ! '    *  Rape  /' 

*  Infanticide  !  '       '  Murder  ! '       What 
does  this  mean  ?     It  means,  sir,   in 
each  case,  that  a   lying,   leacherous, 
lustful  man  has  led  a  weak  but  trust- 
ing woman  to  her   doom !     Led   her 
there  by  his  eloquence; led  her  there 
by  false  promises;  led  her   there   by 
brute  force  !     It   matters  little  what 
may  have  been   the  primary    steps,  i 
the  result  in  each  case  is   the   same. 
Man's  most  powerful  passion  is  Lust. 
Deny  it,  and  I   will   point   you  to  a 
list  of  scandals  in   high  places  that, 
p'acedone  upon  another,  would  reach 
the  clouds.     Add  to  these  the  thou- 
sands on  thousands  of  crimes  of  the 
same  nature   that    never   reach   the 
public  eye,  and  you  have   a  frightful 
column !  *  If  you  ask  me  if  it  is   sin- 
ful to  visit  the  house  of   Miss    Wil- 
liams, or  any  other   decent  place  of 
the  kind,  I  boldly  answer,  no!     lam 
but  human,   sir,     I   have    the  same 
passions  that  all  these  bad   men   ex 
hibit  in  their  infamy.     I  cannot  pre- 
vent it  any  more  than  I  can  prevent 
the    gnawings    of  hunger  when  the 
stomach  demands   food.     I    do   not 
believe  that  I  am  responsible  for   it. 
Now,  then,  sir.     I  am  considered  to 
be  a  young  man  in  good  circumstan- 
ces.    An  indulgent  father  has  spared 
nothing  in  preparing  me  for  society 
and  business.     //  is  not  necessary  for 
me  to  come  here  !     There  are  a  thou- 
sand innocent  girls  in   Chicago  that 

I  could  '  catch  '    with    the    flimsiest 
tale — with  a  dozen  words  used  at  the 
right  time  and  in   the   proper  place. 

II  I  chose,  I  could  make  liaisons  with 
married    women    every    day  in  the 
week.  •  I  know  it,   for  many  a  time 
they  have  more  than  half  revealed  an 
inclination  that  way.     Only  to  day  a 
young  man  boasted  to  me  of  the  girls 


he  had  fooled,  and  the  women  lie  had 
debauched  !  My  blood  boiled  with 
indignation,  and  I  could  have  struck 
him  in  the  face,  had  I  acted  as  I  lelt. 
Do  you  now  know  why  I  come  here? 
Have  I  not  said  enough?  or  must  I 
continue  to  the  end.  and  say,  as  ear- 
nestly as  man  ever  spoke,  that  I  visit 
these  girls  because  I  am  an  honorable 
gentleman,  who  would  not  soil  his 
soul  with  treachery,  or  pollute  his 
lips  with  kisses  that  would  bring  dis- 
grace, shame,  crime  and  death  upon 
the  deluded  victim  ?  I  can  lay  my 
hand  upon  my  heart  and  call  on  the 
God  that  made  me  to  witness  that  I 
never  wronged  the  innocent,  that  I 
never  betrayed  a  Jriend,  and  that  I 
uever  brought  sorrow  to  even  the 
humolest  fireside  !  Should  the  fact 
of  my  being  here  be  published  to  all 
Chicago  to-morrow  morning,  there 
would  be  howls  of  censure  from  every 
diaection,  I  know.  And  among  those 
who  howled  the  longest  and  loudest 
would  be  lechers  who  prowl  about 
like  wolves  in  search  of  prey,  ever 
hungry  for  a  feast  the  bones  of  which 
will  be  the  skeleton  of  one  loved  and 
lost !  Oh.  sir,  Heaven  forgive  me, 
but  when  I  think  of  these  wretches  I 
can  find  but  three  words  with  which 
to  express  my  feelings — God  damn 
them!" 

The  young  man  spoke  with  deep 
feeling,  and  his  utterances»were  truly 
eloquent.  After  but  momentary 
pause  he  continued : 

"  I  have  made  to  you,  sir,  the  same 
explanation  that  I  would  make  were 
you  my  own  father,  instead  of  a 
stranger.  I  come  here,  I  spend  my 
own  mony,  and  I  believe  I  am  per- 
fectly justified  in  doing  so." 

The  old  man  had  listened  eagerly, 
and  beneath  his  disguise  Harry  Har- 
per could  detect  a  flushed  face — not 
of  anger,  but  rather  pride.  He  grasped 
his  son  by  the  hand  and  said  : 

14  Young  man,  were  /your  father  I 
would  say  l  God  bless  you,  my  son  / ' ' 

'•  I  thank  you,  sir,  tor  your  good 
opinion,"  rejoined  the  younger  Bald- 
win; and  then  he  called:  • 

"  Come,  Delia  dear  1  Good  nigh t, 
gentlemen  ! " 


54 


Delia  and  her  "  Charley  "  lelt  the 
room,  and  when  the  eyes  of  Harry 
and  the  merchant  met,  there  was  in 
the  glance  a  world  of  meaning  ! 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

"  I  wonder  what  I'm  out  for  to- 
night?" thought  Cranky  Ann,  as  she 
leisurely  proceeded  on  her  way,  after 
Harry  Harper  and  the  mysterious  old 
man  had  disappeared. 

She  really  was  out,  for  once,  with- 
out a  purpose.  There  was  no  neces- 
ity  for  her  to  "  ply  her  vocation  '*  at 
that  particular  time,  for  she  was  in 
the  employ  of  a  good  paymaster;  and 
to  her  credit  be  it  said,  she  despised 
the  street-walking  business  as  sin- 
cerely as  any  woman  in  the  city. 

"  She  was  not  looking  for  a  "  suck- 
er" that  night.  What  should  she 
do? 

A  convenient  turn  soon  brought 
Crank  to  C.'ark  street,  and  she  found 
herself  standing,  she  scarcely  knew 
why,  in  front  of  an  old  clothes  shop. 

A  fantastic  idea  entered  her  quick 
brain,  and  she  walked  into  the  store. 

Ten  minutes  afterwards  she  was 
again  upon  the  street  with  a  bundle 
under  her  arm,  retracing  her  steps, 
and  walking  rapidly  toward  her 
room. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  from  the 
time  Cranky  Ann  disappeared  up  the 
stairway  that  led  to  her  apartments, 
a  prim  looking  young  man,  plainly  but 
neatly  dressed,  with  a  handsome 
brown  mustache,  and  carrying  a 
nobby  little  cane,  made  his  appear- 
ance at  the  lower  door. 

It  was  old  Crank,  cleverly  dis- 
guised ! 

"  I  can't  have  any  fun  in  petticoats," 
she  thought  ;  "  everybody  knows  me 
as  the  street  walker,  and  the  chances 
are  that  I  would  get  the  collar  the 
minute  I  stepped  off  my  regular  beat; 
but  I  fancy  that,  as  an  elegant  young 
gentleman,  I  can  go  unmolested 
wherever  my  sweet  will  may  choose 
to  take  me." 

Crank  enjoyed  herself  amazingly 
that  evening.  She  took  in  several  of 
the  billiard  rooms, a  number  of  prom- 


inent saloons,  the  Adelphifor  a  short 
time,  then  the  Coliseum,  and  finally, 
at  about  11  o'clock,  entered  the 
Toledo. 

She  saw  Jack  Dunning  and  a  com- 
panion seated  at  an  obscure  table, 
drinking  beer,  and  engaged  in  earn 
est  conversation,  evidently  being 
verv  little  interested  in  the  music  of 
the  Vienna  Orchestra,  that  drowned 
the  voices  of  those  who  sought  to- 
converse  in  the  hall. 

Crank  recognized  in  the  compan- 
ion of  Jack  a  notorious  burgl-ir.  Feel- 
ing interested  in  the  parties,and  deter- 
mining to  find  out  what  scheme  was  on 
foot,  the  took  a  seat  directly  back  o- 
them,  and  strained  her  ears  to  list 
ten. 

At  first  she  could  hear  not  a  single 
word ;  but  the  music  suddenly  ceased, 
and  she  distinctly  heard  Jack  say : 

"  >  tell  you  there's  not  a  man  In 
the  house.  The  old  man  is  out  of 
town,  and  the  young  feller  is  in  the 
arms  of  his  lady-love  on  the  avenue. 
The  coast  is  clear.  There's  lot  of  sil- 
ver ware  and  jewelry,  even  if  you  don't 
get  any  mjney,  and  no  danger  at  all. 
You  and  your  gang  can  do  the  job, 
but  remember  (holding  up  one  finger) 
— halves!" 

"  In  course  !  You  gets  an  even 
half  of  the  swag." 

Crank  heard  no  more  for  some 
time,  though  she  was  crazy  to  take 
in  every  word.  The  two  men  finally 
arose  to  depart;  but  before  leaving 
Jack  whispered,  so  loud  that  Cranky 
Ann  caught  the  words : 

"Three  o'clock — No.  —  Wabash 
avenue  1" 

Had  Crank  been  an  ordinary  wo- 
man she  would  have  screamed  and 
fainted  on  the  spot. 

As  it  was,  she  started  and  tnrned 
pale,  but  not  a  sound  escaped  her 
lips. 

Jack  Dunning  had  named  the  num- 
ber of  Mr.  Baldwin's  house! 

Not  satisfied  with  an  at'  e  m  pt  to 
ruin  the  daughter  of  the  me:  chant,  he 
was  basely  plotting  the  robbery  of  the 
old  man's  home! 

Not  for  a  moment  did  the  street- 
walker hesitate. 


55 


"Your  game  is  up,"  she  muttered, 
menacingly,  casting  a  look  of  hate 
upon  Jack  Dunning,  as  he  sauntered 
out. 

What  should  she  do  ? 

This  was  a  serious  question.  She 
believed  the  statement  of  Jack  con- 
cerning young  Baldwin,  because, 
from  experience,  she  was  aware  that 
many  a  nice  young  man  was  not  ex- 
actly what  he  seemed.  She  knew  the 
only  male  servant  employed  at  the 
house  slept  in  the  barn,  and  that  the 
others  lodged  in  a  remote  part  of  the 
house.  Suppose  she  should  inform 
the  police?  Her  own  identity  would 
at  once  be  disclosed,  and  who  would 
believe  a  masquerading  street- 
walker? 

"  If  I  could  only  find  young  Mr. 
Baldwin  !"  she  thought,  as  she  walked 
with  quick  steps  in  a  southerly  di- 
rection, leaving  the  Toledo;  "but 
how  can  I  ?  He  does  not  go  by  his 
right  name,  I  am  sure  of  that,  and  it 
would  be  foolish  to  attempt  to  find  a 
man  without  a  name  in  one  of  the 
Fourth  avenue  houses.  I  don't  know 
o!  but  one  other  man  in  Ch  cago  that 
I  could  trust.  If  I  could  see  Hart}' 
Harper,  I  would  tell  him  who  I  am, 
disclose  the  discovery  that  I  have 
made,  and  ask  him  to  heJp  me;  and  I 
know  he'd  do  it,  for  he  is  a  lion  in 
bravery,  and  I  do  think  he's  honest, 
no  matter  if  he  is  one  of  the  boys." 

What  induced  the  girl  to  enter  a 
variety  concert  hall  (in  a  cellar)  she 
could  not  explain.  The  music  and 
singing  attracted  her  attention,  and 
down  she  went. 

Her  sharp  eyes  took  in  the  au- 
dience at  a  sweep. 

Joy!  There,  tn  one  of  the  front 
eats,  sat  Harry  Harper  and  the  old 
gentleman  with  whom  she  had  a  tol- 
erably intimate  zcquaintance  ! 

Taking  a  card,  she  wrote  upon  she 
blank  side  these  words: 

"MR.  HARPKR — I  would  like  to 
speak  with  yon,  alone;  will  not  de- 
tain you  buta  moment.  Please  come 
to  the  rear  a-  once.  A  FKIKXD." 

Telling  Mr.  Baldwin  that  he  would 
be  back  in  a  minute  or  two,  Harry 
followed  the  usher,  and  was  ap- 


proached by  Crank,  who  led  him  to 
a  place  in  the  room  where  they  could 
not  be  overheard. 

"Do  you  know  me,  Mr.  Harper  ?" 
she  inquired. 

"  Can't  say  that  I  do,"  replied 
Harry,  after  a  careful  look,  "and  yet 
I'd  swear  I've  seen  you  somewhere." 

"They  call  me  Cranky  Ann,  Har- 
ry," she  said,  with  a  smile;  "  now  I 
guess  you  know  me  !" 

The  young  man  was  astonished, 
but  peifectly  convinced.  He  was  so 
completely  surprised  that  he  waited 
in  wondering  silence  for  an  explana- 
tion. 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  "  I  have  c.^me 
to  you  lor  advice  and  assistance  " 

"  Are  you  in  trouble,  Crank  ?'*  he 
asked  in  kindly  tones. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  others 
are  threatened  with  danger.  I  made 
the  discovery  in  an  accidental  way, 
while  skylarking  in  this  disguise.  I 
cannot  call  on  the  police  tor  help,  as 
you  well  know ;  and  when  I  saw  you 
sitting  there  I  said  to  myself,  'there's 
the  boy  for  the  business."  " 

"Goon,"  said  Harry,  who  felt 
somewhat  flattered.  It  is  pleasant  to 
be  thought  well  of,  even  by  a  street- 
•wa  ker. 

"  I  have  discovered  that  the  house 
of  a  merchant  is  to  be  robbed  at  3 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning!" 

Crank  then  explained  to  Harry  the 
manner  in  which  she  had  gained  her 
information. 

'Where  is  the  house  situated?" 
asked  Harry,  whose  thoughts  had 
been  busy. 

"  The  residence  threatened  is  that 
ot  Mr  B  ildwin,  on  Wabash  avenue  !" 

Crank  was  about  to  proceed  and 
exp  nin  concerning  the  absence  of  the 
merchant  and  his  son,  but  the  men- 
tal excitement  with  which  Harry  was 
struggling  attracted  her  attention. 

His  lace  was  livid.  His  eyes  glared 
with  a  madman's  fury.  His  hands 
trembled.  He  was  almost  beside 
himself  with  some  powerful  passion. 

The  excitement  died  away  as 
quickly  as  it  had  appeared,  and  left  a 
rigid  face,  in  which  could  be  read 
calmness  finmess  and  danger  ! 


56 


"Will,  you  assist  me,  Harry?"  asked 
Crank,  after  a  brief  pause. 

"  Will  It  You  need  not  ask  that 
question  more  than  once.  Yes  !  If 
necessary,  I  will  be  with  you  to  the 
death!  And,  Cranky  Ann,"  he  con- 
tinued, "you  will  lose  nothing  by 
what  you  have  done  to-night !  You 
are  a  thousand  times  better  than 
many  who  pretend  to  despise  you!" 

There  was  a  balm  of  comfort  to  the 
heart  of  the  street-walker  in  these 
words,  but  she  was  anxious  to  come 
to  an  understanding. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?"  she  inquired ; 
"  you  know  we  have  but  three  hours 
in  which  to  prepare ;  after  that  we 
must  act  J" 

"  Have  you  no  plan  ?  "  questioned 
Harry,  who  had  not  thought  of  de- 
tails. 

"  Yes !  I  will  go  to  the  house  qui- 
etly, as  a  private  detective,  and  in  a 
guarded  way  inform  Miss  Baldwin  of 
the  threatened  invasion,  at  the  same 
time  assuring  her  that  ample  assist- 
ance will  be  at  hand,  and  that  no 
harm  can  possibly  result.  While  I 
am  doing  this  you  can  also  make  such 
preparations  as  you  think  best/  I 
presume  you  will  have  no  trouble  in 
separating  from  the  eccentric  old 
gentleman  I  saw  you  with?" 

"I  shall  take  him  to  his  room  and 
leave  him  there.  Your  plan  looks 
feasible,  and  I  have  no  doubt  will 
work  admirably.  But  where  shall  we 
meet?" 

"  The  burglars  will  be  on  time  to 
the  minute.  At  half  past  2  I  will 
meet  you  in  front  of  the  house,  and 
we  will  both  enter." 

"  Will  Miss  Baldwin  be  there  ?" 

"  I  shall  advise  her  to  remain  in  her 
room,  and  have  no  fears." 

"That    will    be    the  best   plan," 
mused  Harry.     But  he   would  have 
felt  lighter  at   heart   had  another  an 
swer  been  given. 

"By  the  way,  Harry,"  remarked 
Crank,  "is  there  any  way  of  finding 
out  where  young  Mr.  Baldwin  can  be 
found?" 

Harry  wondered  why  he  had  not 
thought  of  that  before. 


"  I  can  put  my  hand  on  him  with- 
in fifteen  minutes,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Good !  Then  there  will  be  three 
of  us — two  brave  men  and  one  des- 
perate woman,  as  good  as  most  men 
— and  let  the  housebreakers  be- 
ware!" 

Harry  gave  Crank  his  revolver,  and 
and  then  they  separated,  he  returning 
to  the  seat  he  had  vacated,  as  cool 
and  unconcerned  as  though  nothing 
had  happened.  Two  minutes  later, 
by  special  invitation,  they  entered 
the  wine  room,  where  we  will  leave 
them,  with  the  promise  that  their 
experience  among  the  big-legged  and 
nearly  naked  beauties  of  that  far- 
famed  resort  shall  be  fully  narrated 
in  another  chapter. 

Crank  clutched  the  revolver  with 
a  nervous  grip  when  she  reached  the 
street.  She  only  wished  that  the 
hour  was  at  hand  when  she  might  be 
called  upon  to  use  it  1 

"  Jack  Dunning,"  she  hissed,  "  I 
am  in  your  employ  1  It  is  my  duty 
to  watch  you !  /  -will  stick  to  you 
closer  than  a  brother!" 

And  the  street -walker  laughed. 

But  it  was  a  cold,  harsh,  soulless 
laugh  1 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

As  stated  in  a  former  chapter,  Mr. 
Baldwin,  in  company  with  the  ex- 
tremely young  looking  girl  in  short 
skirts,  retired  to  the  rear  parlor,  where 
for  half  an  hour  they  were  left  undis- 
turbed and  unobserved  by  the  gay 
gathering  that  had  assembled  in 
Madame  Williams'  parlors. 

When  the  wine  that  had  been  or- 
dered was  brought  them,  the  old 
man's  pretty  little  companion  mod- 
estly declined  to  accept  the  spark- 
ling liquid. 

"  Do  you  not  drink  wine  ?  he 
asked,  somewhat  astonished  at  the 
fact  that  she  ghould  refuse  to  partake 
of  the  temptfng  beverage. 

"  No,  sir,  I  never  drink  anything 
which  is  intoxicating,"  said  the  girl, 
with  a  half-sad  tone  of  voice.  "  1 
have  not  become  so  low  as  that  /" 

"  Then  you  have  not  been  in  this 


58 


house  a  very  long  time,  I  imagine." 

"  I  came  here  three  weeks  ago,  sir," 
arswered  the  female,  and  she  hung 
her  head,  and  Mr.  Baldwin  imagined 
he  discovered  a  blush  on  her  fair 
young  face. 

"Will  you  tell  me  why  you  came 
here?" 

"  Oh,  sir,  you  must  not  ask  me 
that  1  It  is  enough  for  you  to  know 
that  I  am  her.  Men  who  visit  such 
places  as  this  would  take  very  little 
interest  in  thereasons  which  induced 
some  of  us  girls  to  resort  to  the  lives 
we  are  leading." 

"Really,  young  woman,  }>ou  in- 
terest me.  Indeed  you  do !  Let 
me  prevail  upon  you  to  reveal  the 
cause  of  your  entering  into  this — this 
— this  business,  I  suppose  you  call 
it" 

"  Sir  1"  returned  the  girl,  sorrow- 
fully, "  I  cannot  comply  with  your 
request — at  least  not  here .'  Tnere 
are  quick  ears  all  around  us,  and  the 
Madame  does  not  permit  us  to  reveal 
to  strangers  our  lite  histories — not, 
at  least,  in  the  parlors." 

"  Then  cannot  we  go  to  some  other 
room,  where  we  will  not  be  anno)  ed 
by  the  presence  of  listeners  ?"  • 

"  Yes,  sir,  we  can  go  into  my  room. 
if  you  have  no  objection." 

"  I  certainly  have  not  the  least  ob- 
jection, lor  I  am  anxious  to  learn  w  hy 
a  young  girl  of  your  intelligence, and 
your  beauty  and  refinement,  should 
descend  to  the  position  you  now  oc- 
cupy." 

"  Then  we  will  quietly  leave  the 
company,  and  retire  to  the  privacy 
of  a  solitary  apartment.  This  way, 
sir,  if  you  please,"  she  continued, 
as  she  led  the  way  to  the  rear  stair- 
way, unobserved  by  Harry,  who  was 
making  himself  agreeable  to  the  girls. 

When  they  had  reached  the  sec- 
ond floor  the  girl  opened  the  door  of 
her  bed-room,  and  invited  Mr.  Bald- 
win to  walk  in. 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  the  pecu- 
liar nature  of  his  position  became  man- 
ifest to  his  mind.  He  hesitated  when 
he  saw  the  snow-white  covering  of 
the  bed,  and  finally  remarked. 


"  My  child,  have  you  no  other 
parlors  than  those  below  ?"  9 

"  There  are  no  parlors  up  stairs," 
was  the  reply ; "  but  this  is  mv  room 
and  we  will  not  be  interrupted:" 

"  I  did  not  apprehend  any  interrup- 
tion, but  this,  you  see,  is  a  <5<?</-room, 
and  not  exactly  the  place  for  a  man 
of  my  age  and  standing,  although,  I 
assure  you,  I  came  here  to-night  for 
no  bad  purpose.  Let  that  be  under- 
stood, and  I  shall  not  object  to  this 
room,  however  suspicious  may  be  the 
circumstances." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  the  thought  of  your 
being  a  bad  man  never  entered  my 
mind.  I  can  see  in  your  face  that 
you  are  not  accustomed  to  visiting 
such  places  as  this,  and  your  words 
and  actions  tell  my  heart  that  you 
are  a  kind,  noble,  gen«rous,  humane 
man." 

:'  I  thank  you  for  your  confidence, 
young  woman,"  was  the  rep1}'  of  the 
old  gentleman,  as  they  entered  the 
room  and  were  seated — he  in  a  large 
arm  chair,  and  she  on  an  ottoman  at 
his  feet. 

"•  Now,  then,  my  poor  child,  will 
you  tell  me  your  name  ?" 

"Do  you  want  my  ^eal  name,  or 
the  one  by  which  I  am  called  here?" 

"  And  have  you  more  than  one 
name  ?" 

'•  Certainly !  All  the  girls  have 
•  fancy  '  names,  generally  the  name 
of  their  man." 

"  Their  man  !  What  do  you  mean 
by  that  ?" 

"  Why,  you  must  know,  sir,  that 
nearly  every  woman  here  has  a  friend 
— something  like  husband — who  is 
called  her  man." 

"  No,  I  did  not  know  it !  What  an 
ignorant  old  lool  I  am !  Have  you 
got  a  man  ?  ' ' 

"  Indeed  I  have  not,  nor  do  I  want 
one.  Oh,  how  I  do  despise  those  low 
creatures,  those  lazy  vagabonds  who 
live  up-^n  the  generosity  of  a  fallen 
woman!" 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  tell  me  that 
these  girls  I  saw  down  stairs  actually 
support  and  clothe  these  men?" 

"They  do,  sir.  They  buy  their 
clothing,  give  them  money,  and  tur- 


nish  them  with  everything  they  may 
ask.' 

"  And  what  do  they  receive  in  re- 
turn ?" 

"  Curses  and  blows  !" 

"  Blows  !  Do  they  really  "whip 
them  ?' ' 

"  Did  you  not  notice  a  girl  down 
stairs  with  a  discolored  and  blood 
shot  eye  ?  Her  man  leltthose  tokens 
of  his  love  upon  he r  this  morning. 
Why,  they  all  expect  to  be  whipped 
once  or  twice  a  week,  and  the  men 
who  are  the  most  brutal  are  thought 
the  most  off  by  their  mistresses  !" 

"  Can  it  be  possible  !  But  you 
told  me  you  had  two  names.  What 
are  they?" 

-v^  "  Little  Maude  is  the  name  I  go  by 
here." 

"And  your  right  name?" 

"  Will  you  not  divulge  it?" 

"  Upon  my  sacred  honor  as  a  man, 
I  will  not !' '  o 

"  I  believe  you,  sir;  my  real  name 
is  Madeline  Black." 

"Madeline,  you  have  told  me  }  our 
name;  now,  let  me  know  how  you 
came  to  such  a  place  as  this." 

"  I  told  you  I  had  been  here  but 
three  weeks.  A  month  ago  I  came 
to  this  city  a  stranger  and  an  or- 
phan—" 

"Poor  child  !"  interrupted  Mr. 
Baldwin,  who  noticed  tears  in  the 
bright  eyes  of  the  unfortunate  girl. 

'•I  had  but  little  money,  and  that 
was  soon  gone.  Then  I  applied  at  an 
intelligence  office  lor  a  situation. 
The  very  day  I  went  there  a  gentle- 
man engaged  me  to  work  in  his  fam- 
ily. I  went  with  him,  and  found 
when  it  was  too  late  that  he  was  a 
villain.  The  nexf  morning  I  awoke 
in  his  arms  !  Frightened,  almost 
crazy,  I  rushed  from  the  house 
When  on  the  street  my  sober  senses 
came.  I  realized  my  shame,  and  re- 
linquished all  hopes  of  ever  redeem- 
ing myself  from  the  disgrace  of  that 
night.  I  sought  outahackman,  made 
known  my  intentions  to  become  a 
woman  of  the  town,  and  he  brought 
me  here.  Oh  !  if  I  could  only  go 
home  once  more,  how  happy  I  should 
be  !" 


"  Mav  I  ask,"  said  Mr.  Baldwin, 
"  why  do  you  not  go  home  ?" 

"  Alas!  my  kind  friend,  I  cannot.  1 
have  no  money  with  which  to  pay  my 
board  here,  none  to  pay  car  fare  on 
the  cars,  and  no  frjends  to  assist 
me  1" 

"  How  much  would  it  require  to 
take  you  home  and  pay  all  your  in- 
debtedness ?" 

"  Oh  the  amount  almost  frightens 
me  !  I  could  not  get  away  from  here 
tor  less  than  one  hundred  dollars  !" 

"  Jf  that  is  all,  then  you  shall  have 
it  this  very  night  !  Indeed,  I  will 
conduct  you  from  this  abode  of  sin 
myself  !  I  have  not  the  money  with 
me  now,  but  I  can  borrow  it  —  yes, 
thank  God,  my  word  is  good  for  that 
amount,  a  thousand  times  over  I 
Come,  poor  girl,  we  will  stay  here  no 
longer.  Let  us  return  to  the  par- 
lor." 

Their  return  created  as  little  atten- 
tion as  their  departure,  and  neither 
Harry  nor  any  one  else  had  noticed 
that  they  had  been  out  of  the  room 
to  which  they  first  repaired. 

The  scene  then  transpired  that  has 
been  narrated  in  previous  chapters. 

After  the  merchant's  son  had  dis- 
appeared  with  "  Delia"  on  his  arm, 
Mr.  Baldwin  sat  for  a  short  time  in 
silence.  He  then  seemed  to  discard 
the  subject  entirely  from  his  mind, 
and  his  thoughts  turned  to  the  young 
girl  with  whom  he  had  conversed. 

"  Harry,"  he  said,  "  I  would  like 
to  speak  with  you  privately." 

That  young  man  deserted  the  "  la- 
dies," and  in  an  instant  was  beside 
his  friend. 

"  Have  you  any  money  with  you?" 
asked  the  merchant. 

"  Plenty  of  it,"  was  the  reply;  "  I 
have  doubled  up  on  that  thousand 
that  I  borrowed  from  you  the  other 


Then  I  wish  you  would  let  me 
have  one  hundred  dollars  until  to- 
morrow." 

"  May  I  ask  what  you  want  it  for?" 
inquired  Harry,  as  he  pulled  a  well- 
filled  wallet  from  an  inside  breast 
p  cket. 

•'  Oh,  I  wish  to  use  it  to-night." 


60 


"Where?" 

«  Here  1"        » 

Harry  insisted  on  particulars.  The 
youngf  man  commenced  to  smell  a 
rat. 

"  I  want  to  se^id  a  poor  unfortun- 
ate girl  back  to  the  home  she  left  a 
month  ago,"  explained  the  good- 
hearted  merchant. 

"  And  who  is  that  poor  unfortun- 
ate gill,"  inquired  Harry  ;  and  an 
amused  smile  played  upon  his  hand- 
some face. 

Mr.  Baldwin  pointed  to  the  female 
who  had  revealed  to  him  her  sad  his- 
tory. 

"  You  don't  mean  the  girl  with  the 
short  dress  ?" 

The  old  man  gravely  nodded. 

Harry  laughed  boisterously. 

The  merchant  frowned. 

"  Do  you  know  her?"  he  finally  in- 
quired. » 

"  Do  I  know  her  ?  I  should  think 
I  did !  I  know  every  hair  in  her  head ! 
Hav«  known  her  tor  years!  Why, 
that  girl  is  known  all  over  town  as 
Little  Maud,  the  Big  Fraud  /" 

Mr.  Baldwin  was  completely  sur- 
prised. Concluding  that  there  was 
not  much  prospect  of  doing  any  act 
of  charity  in  that  house,  he  signified 
a  desire  to  go,  and,  without  even  say- 
ing good-night  to  the  girl  who  had  so 
worked  upon  his  feelings,  he  took  the 
arm  of  his  friend  and  was  quickly  on 
the  street  again. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Cranky  Ann,  in  her  life  of  sin,  had 
participated  in  many  scenes  of  ex- 
citement. She  had  witnessed  bar- 
room and  ball-room  fights  by  the 
score;  she  had  jumped  from  high  win- 
dows to  escape  from  her  na'ural  en- 
emies, the  police;  she  had  been 
dragged  half-naked  through  the 
streets,  and  shoved  roughly  into  a 
damp  cell ;  she  had  looked  down  the 
steel  barrel  of  a  cocked  revolver,  and 
never  moved  a  muscle ;  but  never  be- 
fore had  she  been  so  corap  etely  and 
thorough'y  excited  as  on  the  night 
when  she  left  the  Clark  street  variety 
den,  and  walked  with  firm  tread  in 


the  direction  that  gave  promise  of 
thrilling  adventure  before  daylight. 

It  is  easier  to  plan  than  to  execute. 
Crank's  programme  had  been  marked 
out,  but  her  part  was  harder  to  per- 
form than  she  had  supposed,  f 

"  It's  midnight,"  she  muttered  as 
she  turned  toward  Wabash  av- 
enue; "Miss  Baldwin  has  been 
in  bed  an  hour,  at  least.  How 
shall  I  attract  her  attention  without 
alarming  her  ?  There  is  but  one 
way — I  must  boldly  ring  the  bell,  and 
trust  to  luck." 

Crank  took  particular  pains  to 
make  all  the  noise  she  could,  when 
she  opened  the  gate  leading  to 
the  merchant's  mansion.  She  pulled 
the  bell  vigorously,  and  then  walked 
up  and  down  the  portico  in  front  of 
the  house,  her  footsteps  being  heavy 
enough  to  be  heard  a  block  off. 
Knowing  that  Miss  Baldwin's  room 
was  on  the  second  floor,  in  front,  she 
walked  leisurely  to  the  gate,  where 
she  could  be  seen  from  the  open  win- 
dow above,  and  hummed  a  familiar 
tune. 

As  she  expected,  a  female  voice  in- 
quired: 

"  What  is  wanted  ?" 

"  I  wish  to  speak  with  Miss  Bald- 
win a  moment,"  was  the  reply. 

"  I  will  call  my  brother  " — and  she 
was  about  to  leave,  when  Crank 
quickly  replied : 

"Your  brother,  Miss  Baldwin,  is 
not  at  home — I  left  him  only  a  short 
time  since,  when  he  le!t  the  store 
with  a  western  merchant,  and  stated 
that  he  would  not  be  home  before 
2  or  3  o'clock," 

"Wait  a  moment,"  was  the  only  re- 
ply, and  the  young  lady  was  gone. 
But  she  quickly  returned. 

"  You  are  right  about  my  broth- 
er's not  being  at  home,"  she  said. 
"  As  your  business  cannot  concern 
me  you  can  call  in  the  morning,  at 
any  hour,  and  he  will  be  here  to  meet 
you." 

"  My  business  is  very  important, 
and  it  concerns^*?**,' '  was  the  response 
of  Cranky  Ann,  who  spoke  with  such 
appealing  voice  that  it  completely 


61 


disarmed  the  young  lady  of  any  fears 
she  may  have  entertained. 

"You  seem  to  be  a  friend,"  said 
the  voice  from  above,  "  and  I  will 
meet  you  in  a  moment." 

"  I  am  indeed  your  friend,"  was 
the  solemn  reply  of  the  street- 
walker. 

Miss  Baldwin  turned  on  the  gas  in 
the  parlor  and  in  the  hall,  and  then 
opened  wide  the  door. 

Their  eyes  met,  and  there  was  no 
more  distrust  on  the  part  of  the  lady. 

With  consummate  skill  in  the  use 
of  words,  Crank  revealed  the  plot  to 
rob  the  house  in  such  a  way  that 
Miss  Baldwin  was  not  alarmed  in  the 
least. 

'  You  can  now  return  to  your  room, 
and  place  implicit  trust  in  my  pjwer 
to  protect  you,"  said  Crank,  at  the 
same  time  displaying  the  revolver 
that  Harry  had  provided  her  with. 

"  But  you  are  not  going  to  meet  a 
gang  of  burglars  alone?"  asked  Miss 
B.,  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  her  pro- 
tector. 

"Oh,  no!  A  friend  of  mine  will  be 
here  to  assist  me.  He  knows  your 
brother,  and  is  now  looking  for  him." 

"  You  say  he  knows  my  brother  ? 
Then  he  must  know  me,  also.  Will 
you  tell  me  his  name  ?" 

'  I  do  not  think  you  ever  saw  or 
heard  of  him.  He  has  probably  met 
your  brother  in  the  store,"  replied 
Crank,  who  had  no  idea  that  Harry 
Harper's  acquaintance  extended  be- 
yond the  saloons,  gambling  rooms 
and  houses  of  ill-fame. 

*•  But  it  is  possible  that  I  may  know 
him,"  returned  Miss  B.,  whose  curi- 
osity had  been  aroused ;  "  please  tell 
me  his  name." 

"  Oh,  I  have  not  the  slightest  ob- 
jection. The  name  of  my  young 
friend  is  H  rry  Harper!" 

"Harry  Harper.''' 

Her  heart  gave  a  great  bound,  and 
the  blood   rushed  to  her  cheeks  and 
temple?.     A-  d  then  she  said  as  calm 
ly  as  she  could  : 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  have  heard  my 
brother  speak  of  the  young  gentle- 
man! And  now,  I  witl  return  to  my  j 


room,  as  you    suggested,  and   trust 
entirely  to  vou." 

"  And  Harry"  she  whispered  to 
her  wildly  beating  heart,  as  she  quick- 
ly left  the  parbr  and  a  cended  the 
stairway,  with  the  light  of  a  great 
passion  sparkling  in  her  datk  eyes. 

Cranky  Ann  p  iced  the  parlors  with 
an  impatient  tread. 

An  hour,  that  seemed  an  age, 
elapsed. 

R'pid  footsteps  were  heard  ap- 
proaching. They  halted  at  the  gate, 
and  two  men  entered. 

A  pair  of  lustrous  eyes  peered 
through  the  closed  shutters  of  the 
second  floor.  They  rested  a  second 
upon  the  merchant's  son,  and 
then  followed  the  form  of  Harry 
Harper  until  it  disappeared  beneath 
the  porch. 

Josephine  Baldwin  felt  safer  then 
than  she  would  have  felt  had  the 
house  heen  surrounded  by  a  hundred 
policemen.  Her  brother  quickly  ap- 
peared at  her  door  to  tell  her  that  all 
was  right,  but  she  needed  no  such  as- 
surance— she  had  a  blind  confidence 
in  at  least  one  ot  her  protectors  ! 

Crank  posted  young  Baldwin  con 
cerning  the  "business  at  the  store  " 
that  detained  him,  and  was  cordially 
thanked  for  her  shrewdness.  But 
the  merchant's  son  was  not  enlight- 
ened concerning  Crank's  sex.  It  was 
not  necessary  that  he  should  know 
that  a  common  street  walker  had 
saved  his  home  from  invasion  while 
he  was  almost  within  hailing  distance, 
wrapped  in  the  close  embrace  of — 
slumber  ! 

The  watchers  anxiously  waited. 

"Ten  minutes  to  three!"  whis- 
pered the  merchant's  son. 

Crank  was  looking  through  the 
shutters  with  eyes  penetrating  as 
those  of  a  night  bird.  A  man  was 
slow'y  passing  and  a  hack  drove  leis 
urely  by.  Seiziog  Harry  by  the  col- 
lar, she  fairly  dragged  him  to  the 
window. 

"  Do  you  know  that  man  ?"  she 
whispered,  huskily. 

Harry  looked  at  him  almost  sav- 
agelv. 

"  I  have  met  him,  I  think,"  he  said, 


62 


*'but  I  cannot  recnll  his  name.  But 
see  !  he  halts,  and  looks  searchingly 
this  way !  Is  he  the  burglar,  Crank  ?" 

"No!  that  is  a  friend  of  mine! 
His  name  is  Jack  Dunning!  It  was 
an  accident  that  made  him  stop.  He 
has  gone  now." 

"Jack  Dunning — Jack  Dunning," 
mused  Harry;  "  I  have  heard  of  him, 
I  have  met  him,  but  I  do  not  know 
much  of  him." 

At  that  instant  young  Baldwin 
rushed  excitedly  into  the  room. 

"They  have  come!"  he  said;  they 
are  in  the  back  yard  now — there  ara 
three  of  them  !" 

•'Three  against  three — man  for 
man  1"  cried  Crank,  taking  the  lead 
in  spite  of  Harry,  who  could  have 
forced  her  back. 

"  That's  a  game  girl,"  he  thought, 
as  he  looked  at  the  intrepid  street- 
walker admiringly. 

*'  They  are  forcing  the  basement 
door!"  she  whispered,  hoarsely:  and 
with  surprising  familiarity  with  the 
house,  she  was  halt  way  down 
the  stairway  before  the  other  two  had 
started. 

With  reckless  daring  she  rushed  to 
the  outer  door,  unbolted  it  with  a 
jerk,  turned  the  key,  and  stood  face 
to  face  with  three  masked  robbers  ! 

The  villains  heard  other  footsteps 
approaching,  they  saw  the  glittering 
mounting  and  polished  steel  of  a  re 
volver,  and,  taking  to  their  heels  ran 
to  the  alley,  where  stood  a  hack  ready 
to  receive  them. 

Crank  was  at  their  heels,  and  twice 
her  revolver  spoke  with  peculiar  and 
emphatic  eloquence. 

A  groan  followed  the  last  shot,  but 
the  men  clambered  into  the  carriage, 
the  horses  sprang  at  the  crack  of  the 
whip,  and  away  they  went. 

Bang!  bang!  Cranky  Ann  stood 
in  the  middle  of  the  alley,  and  fired 
at  the  retreating  hack.  When  the 
vehicle  was  about  thirty  feet  away, 
the  i pper  portion  of  a  man's  body 
appeared  through  the  side  window,  a 
steady  arm  was  raised,  a  sharp  click 
followed,  and  a  loud  icport  rang  out 
on  the  clear  night  air. 

The  street  walker  threw   up  both 


hands,  and  with  a  groan  of  agony  fell 
into  the  arms  of  Harry  Harper  ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

The  reader  who  has  ever  entered 
the  *'  wine  room  "  ot  a  variety  the- 
atre can  imagine  the  state  of  mind  of 
the  merchant  when  he  followed  Harry 
Harper  through  the  door  that  led  to 
that  resort.  He  had  mingled  with 
low-down  creatures  who  frequent 
Dan  Webster's  dancing  den;  he  had 
walked  arm-in  arm  with  a  street- 
walker, and  had  in  her  room  been 
tempted;  he  had  witnessed  volup- 
tuous ease  in  its  most  luxurious  garb, 
in  the  parlors  of  the  reigning  queen 
of  the  demi-monde.  These  glimpses 
of  fast  life  had  prepared  him  for  al- 
most any  shape  that  the  great  evil 
might  assume;  but  for  all  this,  he  was 
staggered,  confused,  confounded, 
when  he  entered  that  "  wine  room." 
It  was  a  eight  that  his  imagination 
had  not  provided  for,  and  tor  a  mo- 
ment the  old  gentleman  was  dazed 
with  the  bewildering  dazzleinent  of 
the  "scene  of  enchantment"  that 
met  his  eyes. 

The  room  was  not  more  than  fifteen 
feet  square,  with  a  "  private  box  "  in 
one  corner,  an  entrance  to  the  "stage" 
in  the  other,  and  a  multitude  of  arm 
chairs  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
"  ladies  "  and  their  visitors. 

There  were  a  dozen  "actresses" 
in  the  room,  all  so  nearly  nude  that 
it  would  have  been  scarcely  less  in- 
decent had  they  discarded  the  few 
flimsy  garments  that  adorned  their 
limbs  and  bodies. 

At  a  distance  of  twenty  or  thirty 
feet,  the  scene  would  have  been  in- 
toxicating to  almost  any  man's  mind ; 
but  upon  close  inspection  the  beau- 
ties were  stripped  of  their  charms, 
and  disgust  rather  than  admiration 
would  be  the  result. 

While  the  best  of  us  could  hardly 
be  expected  to  shut  our  eyes  to  the 
revealed  charms  ot  lovely  woman, 
there  are  few  who  would  not  turn 
from  such  exhibitions  as  that  which 
met  the  gaze  of  Mr.  Baldwin,  in  the 
Clark  street  cellar. 


63 


Beauties  they  may  have  been  once, 
but  contact  with  dissipation  and  sin 
had  long  ago  robbed  them  of  their 
heritage,  and  left  them  miserab  e 
wrecks,  that  no  fictitious  trappery 
could  make  attractive  to  other  than 
than  the  most  debased  of  mortals. 

They  were  bloated,  pimpled,  sore- 
eyed,  toul-rnouthed,  disgusting  spec 
imens  of  lost  womanhood.  This  could 
not  be  concealed  by  the  lavish  appli- 
ance ot  paint  and  pawder,  and  Mr. 
Baldwin  shuddered,  when,  after  he 
had  taken  a  chair,  one  of  them  drop- 
ped on  his  knees  and  placed  her 
bare  arms  affectionately  around  his 
neck. 

She  was  attired  in  tights  that  ex- 
posed all  that  could  well  be  seen,  and 
the  other  extremity  was  almost  com- 
pletely destitute  of  covering  of  any 
kind. 

•'  My  dear,"  she  said,  trying  to  be 
affectionate,  4i  won't  you  buy  me  a 
drink?  I  feel  as  dry  as  a  smoked 
fish." 

"  Certainly  you  can  have  a  drink. 
What  do  you  wish  ?" 

"  Well,  sometimes  I  drink  lemon- 
ade, sometimes  beer,  and  then  again 
wine ;  but  this  time  I  guess  I'll  take 
a  little  whisky.  You  look  like  a 
whisky-drinker  yourself,  and  I  al- 
ways like  to  be  agreeable  and  socia- 
ble with  my  friends." 

Just  then  another  painted  damsel 
sidled  up. 

"Can't  I  have  something  too  ?" 
she  said,  with  a  poorly  simulated 
pout. 

"  Why,  yes,  of  course  \  The  ladies 
can  all  take  what  they  wish,"  replied 
the  old  gentleman,  so  loud  that  none 
failed  to  hear  him. 

The  boss  beer  jerker  of  the  estab 
lishment  was  busy  for  a  minute  in 
taking  orders  for  whisky,  gin,  brandy, 
rum  punches,  beer  and  other  bev- 
erages such  as  were  dispensed  at  the 
bar. 

'•  What  is  yours?"  he  said,  ad 
dressing  Mr.  Baldwin. 

"  I'll  take  whisky  straight!" 

Harry  Harper,  who  had  been  cu- 
riousty  watching  the  merchant's 
movements,  was  betrayed  into  a  sud- 


den start.     He  could  not  believe  in 
his  own  earsl 

He  looked  at  the  old  man  sharply, 
and  a  sly  wink  assured  him  that  his 
friend  had  not  altogether  taken  leave 
of  his  senses. 

The  drinks  came,  and  a  close  ob- 
server might  have  detected  Mr. 
Baldwin  in  a  clever  feat  of  jugglery, 
as  he  neatly  disposed  of  his  raw 
whisky  in  the  spittoon 

He  handed  the  girl  who  had  or- 
dered them  a  five  dollar  bill,  and  re- 
ceived a  sweet  "  thank  you,"  but  not 
a  nickle  in  change. 

At  the  same  time  the  "  fair  "  crea- 
ture gave  his  hand  a  suggestive 
squeeze,  which  he  returned  with  in- 
terest ! 

Evidently  the  venerable  visitor 
did  not  intend  to  be  taken  for  a 
greenhorn. 

Fifteen  minutes  and  another  round 
of  drinks,  sickened  the  merchant,  and.., 
he  expressed  deep  regret  that  he  was 
compelled  to  tear  himself  away  from 
such  agreeable  com  pain'.  In  the 
meantime  he  had  made  engagements 
with  thiee  females,  all  of  whom  were 
to  meet  him  on  the  following  day. 
Each  insisted  that  the  present  was  a 
much  better  opportunity,  as  the 
"show "  was  nearly  cut,  but  the  lib 
eral  old  cove  was  sorry  that  circum- 
stances would  not  permit  of  such  an 
arrangement,  and  promised  faithlully 
to  make  good  his  appointments  for 
the  following  day — a  promise  he  had 
no  notion  of  fulfilling. 

The  visit  was  one  that  the  mer- 
chant will  never  forget.  It  opened 
his  eyes  to  the  wickedness  that 
thrives  in  the  very  heart  of  this  great 
city,  and  convinced  him  tkat  the  an- 
gels of  the  wine  room  are  as  depraved 
devils  as  ever  wore  singed  wings. 

"  You  will  have  to  occupy  our 
room  alone  to-night,"  said  Harry,  af- 
ter they  had  gained  the  street  and 
taken  in  a  deep  draught  of  pure  air. 

"  Oh,  you  young  rascal  !"  was  the 
only  reply  made. 

Harry  made  no  explanation,  con- 
cluding that  it  would  be  better  to  let 
Mr.  Baldwin  rest  under  a  delusion 
that  did  injustice  to  himself,  rather 


64 


than  throw  out  any  insinuations  that 
would  raise  a  suspicion  in  the  old 
man's  mind. 

They  separated,  the  one  to  reflect 
upon  what  he  had  seen  of  Chicago 
under  ground,  the  other  to  engage  in 
an  adventure  in  which  his  whole 
heart  and  soul  was  enlisted  1 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Harry  Harper  was  laboring  under 
the  most  intense  excitement  when  he 
heard  the  report  of  the  pistol  from 
the  hack,  and  saw  Cranky  Ann  throw 
up  her  hands.  •»  He  would  have  pur- 
sued the  robbers  had  not  the  brave 
girl  fallen ;  but  as  it  was,  much  as  he 
desired  to  bring  the  villains  to  jus- 
tice, he  could  not  abandon  one  who 
had  proven  herself  to  be  true  as  steel, 
even  though  she  was  a  pick-up  of  the 
street. 

There  had  been  another  witness  to 
the  encounter.  From  the  rear  win- 
dow, Josephine  Bald  win,  withflushed 
face  and  heaving  bosom,  had  watched 
with  eager  eyes  all  that  had  taken 
place.  The  reckless  daring  and  un- 
daunted bravery  ot  the  young  "man" 
who  had  first  warned  her  of  danger, 
filled  her  with  admiration,  and  when 
she  saw  the  hero  fall  a  piercing  scream 
escaped  her  lips.  Rushing  to  the 
scene  of  the  encounter  with  stream- 
ing hair  and  frightened  look,  she  iell 
upon  her  knees  beside  the  prostrate 
form,  tore  the  cap  from  the  head  of 
the  sufferer,  and  revealed  to  her  as- 
tonished gaze  locks  as  long  and  flow- 
ing as  her  own  ! 

"Great  heaven!"  she  exclaimed, 
"  this  is  not  a  man's  hair !  It  is  a 
woman  who  has  saved  us  from  rob- 
bery, and  sacrificed  her  own  life!" 

Gently  the  senseless  form  was  con- 
veyed to  the  house,  and  young  Bald- 
win went  hurriedly  in  quest  of  a 
physician. 

The  body  of  Cranky  Ann  was  placed 
upon  a  sofa  in  the  back  parlor,  and 
Miss  Baldwin  went  up  stairs  to  pro- 
cure a  pillow,  while  Harry  Harper 
commenced  a  search  in  the  yard  and 
alley,  to  secure  it  he  could  some  evi- 


dence by  which  to  identify  the  rob- 
bers and  murderers. 

When  Josephine  Baldwin  returned 
with  the  pillow  and  such  restoratives 
as  are  usually  kept  in  every  family, 
she  stopped  in  the  door  as  suddenly 
as  though  she  had  been  shot,  and  a 
ghastly  pallor  overspread  her  fair 


The  body  of  Cranky  Ann  was  no- 
where to  be  seen  ! 

The  alarm  was  given,  Harry  was  sum- 
moned, a  search  was  made,  the  street 
was  scanned  up  and  down,  and  not  a 
trace  could  be  found  ! 

The  corpse  had  been  stolen  ! 

The  front  door  was  wide  open,  and 
Harry  Harper  concluded  that  the 
bold  burglars  had  invaded  the  house, 
and  taken  away  the  evidence  of  their 
great  crime  !  He  knew  full  well  that 
unless  the  body  could  be  found,  no 
trial  or  conviction  for  murder  could 

be  effected. 

***** 

On  Monday  morning,  between  10 
and  11  o'clock,  Miss  Isabella  Mar- 
tindale,  the  Southern  lady,  made  her 
appearance  at  the  residence  of  Mr. 
Baldwin  ! 

She  was  magnificently  dressed,  and 
seemed  to  be  in  excellent  health  and 
spirits  ! 

She  had,  she  said,  enjoyed  in  an 
unusual  degree  her  visit  with  her 
cousin,  who  had  merely  spent  the 
Sabbath  here,  and  was  already  onhei 
way  to  the  East. 

It  will  be  observed  that  Cranky 
Ann  could  tell  a  lie  as  easily  and 
readily  as  she  could  shoot  a  burglarl 

Miss  Baldwin  had  entirely  recov- 
ered from  the  effects  of  the  startling 
encounter  with  the  midnight  maraud- 
ers, and  regaled  "  Miss  Martindale  " 
with  a  complete  and  graphic  account 
of  the  adventure,  including  the  heroic 
conduct  of  the  mysterious  person 
who  had  warned  her  of  the  contem- 
plated robbery,  the  death  shot  of  the 
burglars,  the  unexpected  discovery 
of  the  sex  of  the  victim,  and  the  sud- 
den and  unexpected  disappearance 
of  the  corpse.  »Miss  Baldwin  was 
eloquent  in  her  praises  of  the  dis- 
guised woman,  and  her  eyes  filled 


66 


with  tears  as  she  explained  how  brave 
and  desperate  was  the  attack  upon 
the  ruffians,  and  how  piercing  was  the 
death  cry  of  the  poor  girl  whose  body 
had  been  riddled  with  a  cold  and 
cruel  bullet! 

"  Whoever  she  was,  whatever  may 
have  been  her  faults,  however  dark 
may  have  been  the  stains  upon  her 
soul,  however  deep  in  sin  she  ma  • 
have  plunged,  my  prayer  shall  ever 
be, '  May  God  have  mercy  on  her 
soul  !'•" 

There  was  moisture  in  the  eyes  of 
Josephine  Baldwin  as  she  fervently 
uttered  these  words. 

But  what  caused  the  deep  emo- 
tion of  Isabella  Martindlale  ?  Wh}' 
did  she  tremble  and  turn  pale  ? 
What  strange  power  thrilled  her  soul 
and'forced  unwilling  tears  from  eyes 
that  seldom  wept  ?  Why  did  she 
gasp  for  breath  and  reel  as  one  par- 
alyzed ? 

Miss  Baldwin  attributed  this  un- 
usual display  of  emotion  to  a  sym- 
pathetic !eeling  for  the  unfortunate 
unknown.  > 

It  had  been  many,  many  years 
since  pure  lips  had  said  to  Cranky 
Ann,  "God  bless  you,"  and  the 
words  sank  deep  down  into  her  heart. 
They  were  more  precious  to  her  than 
gold,  and  for  a  moment  she  was 
transfixed  with  the  irresistible  im- 
pulse of  a  great  and  overpowering 
joy. 

That  afternoon,  "  Mrs.  Robinson  " 
and  "  her  son"  drove  to  the  door  of 
the  Baldwin  mansion  with  one  of  the 
most  elegant  turn-outs  in  Chicago. 

Miss  Baldwin  received  them  cor- 
dially, and  Cranky  Ann's  face  beamed 
with  gracious  smiles. 

But  could  Jack  Dunning  and  Mad- 
ame Gibson  have  read  her  thoughts, 
they  would  have  shuddered,  for  be- 
neath her  smile  there  lurked  the 
amiability  of  the  hyena  rather  than 
the  dove ! 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  bullet  aimed  at  Cranky  Ann  by 
the  burglar  would  have  terminated  her 
existence  had  it  not  been  for  circum 


stances  that  would  seem  almost  prov- 
idential in  their  nature.  The  bat 
that  she  had  purchased  at  the  second- 
hand clothing  store  was  at  least  two 
sizes  too  large  for  her  head.  In  or- 
der to  overcome  this  difficulty,  when 
the  street- walker  reached  her  room 
she  padded  the  leather  lining  with 
several  thicknesses  of  brown  paper, 
in  that  manner  securing  a  perfect  fit. 
The  bull  that  would  otherwise  hare 
buried  itself  in  her  skull  was  resisted 
by  leather  and  paper,  and  glanced 
upward,  but  had  no  effect  upon  the 
disguised  woman,  except  to  tempo- 
rarily stun  her.  She  was  conscious 
when  the  cap  was  torn  from  her  head, 
and  her  sex  discovered.  But  she 
made  no  demonstration,  for  her  light- 
ning brain  had  been  at  work,  and 
she  determined  to  escape  before  rec- 
ognition was  possible.  The  oppor- 
tunity came  sooner :  than  she  expect- 
ed. The  instant  she  found  herself 
alone  and  unwatched,  Crank  sprang 
to  hei-  feet  with  the  agility  of  a  fright- 
ened deer,  made  her  way  noiselessly 
to  the  front  door,  and  disappeared 
around  the  nearest  corner  with  the 
swiftness  of  the  wind.  Without  en- 
courtering  a  soul,  she  was  within  a 
very  short  time  in  her  own  room  on 
State  street.  The  exciting  adventure 
through  which  she  had  passed,  to- 
gether with  the  unusual  exertion  of 
her  flight,  somewhat  unnerved  the 
heroic  girl,  and  she  threw  herself 
panting  and  exhausted  upon  the 
bed. 

The  cool  night  air  had  an  invig- 
orating and  inspiriting  effect,  and 
when,  not  long  afterward,  the  clear 
eastern  sky  was  streaked  with  threads 
of  silver  and  gold,  and  dawn  succeed- 
ed darkness,  Cranky  Ann's  excite- 
ment had  all  passed  away,  and  she 
was  again  in  full  possession  ol  all  her 
wonderful  faculties. 

But  she  did  not  arise.  She  laid 
upon  her  bed  and  abandoned  her 
mind  to  thought. 

Way  back,  as  far  as  memory  could 
reach,  she  wandered  in  her  wakeful 
dream.  All  the  act  a  of  her  life  passed 
in  rapid  review  before  her.  The 
strange  story  of  her  life,  as  related  to 


67 


Mr.  Baldwin  only  a  short  time  pre- 
vious, was  vividly  portrayed  in  the 
brilliant  colorings  of  active  imagin- 
ation. Quickly  the  scene  shifted, 
until  finaHy  came  the  last  act  in  her 
checkered  career.  When,  in  her 
mind's  eye,  she  looked  upon  the  dark 
and  hateful  days  of  her  sinful  life, 
there  was  an  expression  of  pain, 
agony  and  remorse  upon  the  face  of 
her  who  had  been  a  heroine  an  hour 
before ;  but  the  thought  of  that  one 
good  deed  drove  away  the  black 
clouds  as  the  sun's  brightrays  drives 
darkness  from  the  face  of  the  earth, 
and  left  there  a  smile  as  peaceful  as 
that  which  plays'  upon  the  features 
of  an  infant  in  its  sweetest  dreams. 

And  from  the  corners  of  the  street- 
walker's closed  eyes  there  came  tears 
— not  of  sorrow,  not  of  anger,  not  of 
agony,  but  of  thankfulness;  she  wept 
her  thanks  to  that  Unseen  Power  that 
had  guided  her  steps  for  good  on 
that  night  of  adventure  and  peril. 

Cranky  Ann  was  startled  by  a  sharp 
rap  upon  the  door.  Brushing  away 
the  tell-tale  tears,  she  turned  the 
key,  and  Harry  Harper  grasped  her 
hand  and  held  it  in  a  firm  and  cor- 
dial clasp,  and  his  voice  was  hoarse 
and  husky  as  he  said : 

"Crank,  God  bless  you,  I'm  glad 
that  I  have  found  you  1" 

The  girl  did  not  speak,  but  she 
returned  the  warm  pressure  of  his 
hand,  and  her  heaving  bosom  told 
with  an  eloquent  tongue  how  deep 
was  her  emotion. 

Leading  her  to  a  seat,  Harry  hur- 
riedly asked: 

"  Were  you  hurt,  Crank  ?" 

"  No — I  was  merely  stunned  for  a 
moment,"  was  the  reply,  and  then 
she  related  the  miraculous  story  of 
her  escape  from  instant  death. 

"  But  you  ought  not  to  have  fled 
as  you  did,"  said  Harry;  "Miss 
Baldwin  and  her  brother  are  both  in 
deep  distress  regarding  your  fate. 
They  believe  that  you  were  killed, 
and  that  your  body  was  stolen  by 
the  murderers,  who  hoped  in  that 
way  to  escape  the  death  penalty, 
should  they  be  tracked  down. 
€ome,  Crank,  go  back  with  me,  and 


not  only  relieve  their  minds,  but  let 
them  at  leat  thank  you  for  what  you 
have  done  !" 

"Not  for  the  world!"  was  her 
quick  and  passionate  reply. 

"Why  not,  Crank?" 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  now,  Harry, 
but  before  another  week  passes  you 
and  they  will  knoW  something  about 
C  ranky  Ann,  the  street  walker,  that 
will  cover  up  at  least  some  of  the 
wicked  deeds  that  distort  and  dis- 
figure the  record  of  her  life  1" 

"  But  why  delay  a  week  ?  Why 
not  tell  the  story  now  ?  I  ana  cer- 
tain, Crank,  that  there  will  never  be 
a  better  opportunity,  and  I  know 
that  it  would  relieve  brother  and  sis- 
ter Irom  an  anxiety  that  mus't  be 
painful." 

"  I  cannot  even  explain  my  rea- 
sons," said  Crank  in  reply;  "but  if  you 
wish  you  may  say  to  the  youug  lady 
and  gentleman  that  the  person  wkt 
warned  them  of  danger  was  a  prof 
ligate  woman  who  daily  walks  the 
streets  and  solicits  from  the  passing 
crowd,  and  that  she  is  entirely  un- 
worthy of  a  single  thought  from  such 
as  they.  You  may  also  say  that  she 
was  not  injured  by  the  bullet,  and 
that  she  is  glad  to  have  been  of  some 
slight  service  in  protecting  them 
from  the  scheming  depredators." 

"  Crank,"  replied  Harry,  earnest- 
ly i  "you  are  throwing  away  the  op- 
portunity of  a  lifetime.  Though  you 
are  a  pcor  unfortunate  street  walker, 
you  are  as  brave  and  as  noble  a  girl 
as  ever  breathed  the  breath  of  life — " 

"  Hush  1"  cried  Crank,  impulsive- 
ly? "you  forget  yourself,  Harry  Har- 
per! You  forget  who  I  am!  Yon 
forget  that  for  long,  long  years  I  h»re 
walked  the  streets  of  Chicago,  an  ob 
ject  of  loathingand  scorn — a  despised 
outcast,  from  whom  purity  has  turned 
with  cold  and  haughty  frown,  and 
upon  whom  none  but  the  vicious  and 
corrupt  have  smiled  1  You  forget 
the  reputation  that  the  world  gives 
to  Cranky  Ann,  the  street  prostitute! 
You  forget  yourself  when  you  call  a 
creature  like  me  a  brave  and  noble 
girl  1  No,  sir!  I  am  a  woman  of  the 
town,  and  the  tears  of  all  the  angels 


68 


could  not  wash  away  that  stain  !  I 
do  not  want  the  thanks  of  those  good 
people,  and  I  will  not  go  near  them, 
tor  I  know,  and  you  know,  too,  that, 
however  generous  the  irapu'se  ot 
thankfulness  might  be,  there  would 
creep  into  their  hearts  a  feeling  of 
loathing  should  they  even  touch  the 
hand  of  the  public  strumpet  who  had 
been  of  momentary  service  to  them  1" 

The  girl  spoke  vehemently,  and 
was  moved  almost  to  tears,  so  earnest 
were  her  words. 

Harry,  too,  was  unusually  af- 
lected. 

"  The  words  that  you  have  used 
are  the  fruits  of  excitement,"  he  said, 
"  and  have  no  foothold  outside  a  dis- 
ordered imagination.  True,  the 
world  in  general  hates  prostitutes, 
because  it  believes  them  naturally 
bad,  and  incapable  of  anything  good ; 
but  once  let  it  be  known  that  the 
lowest  and  filthiest  outcast  that 
wades  through  the  depths  of  Chica- 
go's slums  has  performed  such  an 
act  as  you  did  not  much  more  than 
an  hour  ago  ;  let  any  harlot  that 
walks  these  streets  rise  up  in  defense 
of  the  life  or  virtue  of  any  innocent 
girl  threatened  with  peril,  and  there 
is  not  a  decent  man  or  woman  in  this 
great  city  who  would  not  shout  the 
voice  oi  praise,  and  who  would  not 
warmly  welcome  her  to  their  hearts, 
their  homes  and  their  affections  !" 
•  Cranky  Ann  listened  with  an  ear- 
nest, eager,  hepeful  look  in  her  flushed 
face  and  inflamed  eyes. 

"God!  "she  exclaimed,  "I  only 
hope  that  what  you  say  is  true!" 

Harry  endeavored  to  prevail  upon 
her  to  return  to  the  residence  of  the 
merchant,  but  she  resolutely  refused. 
As  he  was  about  going  she  said: 

"  Harry  Harper,  you  have  spoken 
and  acted  kindly  toward  me,  and  you 
do  not  know  how  thankful  I  am. 
Within  the  next  few  days  I  may 
need  the  help  of  a  friend.  It  is  pos- 
sible that  I  may  ask  him  to  face  dan- 
ger, and  strike  with  a  strong  arm. 
If  I  should  seek  that  friend  in  you, 
what  would  you  say  ?" 

Harry  never  opened  his  lips,  but 
he  took  the  right  hand  ot  Crank  in 


both  of  his,  and  she   was  satisfied 
with  the  answer  ! 

"Whenever  I  send,  come  quick- 
ly I" 

"  I'll  be  there,  staunch  and  true!" 

And  he  was  gone  ! 

Crank  fastened  the  door,  darkened 
the  room  as  much  as  possible,  dis- 
robed, and  was  quickly  in  bed.  Her 
last  words  before  sleep  came  were: 

•*  Is  it  true  ?  Is  there  one  ray  of 
hope  for  the  old  street  walker  ? ' 

She  closed  her  eyes,  and  not  an 
ugly  dream  disturbed  the  sweetness 
ot  her  slumbers. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Madame  Gibson,  under  the  name 
of  Mrs.  Robinson,  accompanied  by 
Jack  Dunning,  who  assumed  to  be 
her  son,  made  her  appearance  at  the 
Baldwin  mansion  at  the  appointed 
hour  on  the  Monday  afternoon  suc- 
ceeding the  day  that  witnessed  the 
exciting  events  narrated  in  this  ro- 
mance. * 

The  Madame,  in  personal  appear- 
ance, was  impressively  respectable. 
Maturity  had  set  its  rigid  stamp  upon 
her  face,  and  without  artful  appli- 
ances she  was  really  a  magnificent- 
looking  lady — one  who  would  com- 
mand attention  and  respect  wherever 
she  might  be.  On  this  occasion  she 
took  particular  care  that  neither  in 
look,  in  act,  nor  in  speech  should  she 
betray  the  treachery  that  was  hidden 
by  the  mask  of  mildness,  gentleness, 
and  loving  kindness. 

Jack  Dunning  was  equally  careful 
in  the  performance  ol  the  part  he  had 
undertaken.  But  he  did  not  know 
that  the  vivacious  and  voluptuous 
young  lady  on  whom  he  had  cast  his 
baleful  eyes  had  been  timely  warned, 
and  was  watching  his  every  move 
ment  with  a  scrutiny  close  and  care- 
ful. Josephine  Baldwin  could  not  but 
admire  his  manly  appearance,  and 
the  polished  politeness  with  which 
he  addressed  her.  But  at  times,  when 
he  thought  himself  unobserved,  there 
was  a  lascivious  look  in  his  expressive 
face  that  did  not  escape  the  notice  of 
the  fair  heiress.  *  That  he  admired 


69 


her,  she  did  not  doubt ;  but  whether 
it  was  the  admiration  of  the  roue  and 
the  rake  or  that  of  honesty  and  ex- 
alted manliness,  was  a  matter  upon 
which  grave  doubts  suggested  them 
selves  in  her  mind,  as  she  listened  to 
the  smooth-sounding  compliments 
that  were  addressed  to  her  as  they 
rode  along  the  avenues  and  the  boule- 
vards. 

Cranky  Ann,  in  the  character  of 
Isabella  Martindale,  the  Southern 
lady,  was  perfection  itself,  and  even 
Jack  Dunning,  knowing,  as  he  did, 
that  she  was  only  a  common  street 
walker,  could  not  but  admire  the 
mar  ner  in  which  she  represented  the 
high-toned  lady  that  she  assumed  to 
be.  There  was  no  look  of  recogni- 
tion between  the  villain  and  the  wo- 
man he  had  hired  to  aid  in  his  wicked 
designs.  She  and  he  were  taking  the 
leading  parts  in  a  drama  of  real  life, 
and  it  had  been  arranged  at  the  re- 
hearsal that  they  were  to  act  in  every 
way  as  though  she  were  really  a  lady 
and  he  actually  an  upright  and  hon- 
orable young  man.  But  the  disguised 
street- walker  had  a  little  plot  of  her 
own  concocting  to  add  to  the  play  as 
originally  prepared ;  and  though  she 
was  outwardly  amiability  itselt,  her 
mind  was  excited  by  thoughts  that 
only  wonderful  self  control  could  con- 
ceal from  the  attention  of  those  with 
whom  she  was  conversing  in  the  most 
woildly  and  matter  of  iact  of  wa*ys. 

To  all  but  Crank  the  ride  was  a 
pleasant  one.  The  heartless  procur 
ess  was  gloating  over  the  ease  with 
which  she  was  earning  her  reward ; 
the  reckless  libertine,  infatuated  with 
the  charms  of  the  lovely  woman 
whom  he  had  determined  at  all  haz- 
ards to  win,  was  jubilant  at  heart  at 
the  prospect  of  an  early  accomplish- 
ment of  the  ends  at  which  his  base 
designs  aimed ;  the  merchant's  daugh- 
ter, having  no  suspicions  that  a  con- 
spiracy threatened  her,  was  full  of 
life  and  animation;  the  street-walker, 
while  she  smiled  and  gave  voice  to 
such  words  as  a  stranger  would  nat- 
urally use  when  enjoying  a  trip  un- 
der the  shades  of  great  forest  trees, 
and  fanned  by  the  soft  sighs  of  a 


mighty  inland  ocean,  was  all  the  time 
planning  a  counter-conspiracy  that 
would  bring  down  wrath  and  ven- 
geance on  her  own  head,  instead  of 
ruin  and  destruction  upon  that  of  the 
proud  beauty  who  sat  at  her  sido.  * 

Thus  the  minutes  and  the  hours 
rolled  on,  until  the  lengthening  shad- 
ows told  them  that  evening,  with  its 
darkness  and  its  dampness,  would 
soon  be  upon  them.  But  the  cool 
breezes  were  so  soothing  in  their 
effects  that  no  one  thought  of  turn- 
ing the  heads  of  the  horses  home- 
ward— or  if  they  did  so  think,  no 
mention  was  made  of  it,  and  it  was 
quite  dark  when  the  happy  party 
halted  in  front  of  the  house  of  Mad- 
ame Gribson. 

That  scheming  woman  insisted 
upon  the  honor  of  entertaining  her 
friends  under  her  own  roof,  for  a 
short  time,  at  least,  and  without 
marked  hesitation  the  three  ladies, 
preceded  by  Jack  Dunning,  entered 
the  assignation  house. 

As  Josephine  Baldwin  was  being 
assisted  from  the  carriage  by  "Mr. 
Robinson,"  two  gentlemen  were 
passing.  One,  an  elderly  man,  she 
did  not  knoqy;  but  the  other  WHS 
Harry  Harper,' and  for  some  reason 
that  she  did  not  herself  realize,  she 
was  thankful  that  he  did  not  recog- 
nize her  while  she  was  graciously  re- 
ceiving the  attentions  of  another 
man. 

Crank,  too,  recognized  the  hand- 
some young  sporting  man,  and  she 
thanked  God  that  he  was  so  near. 
Something  told  her  that  he  would 
soon  return  that  way,  and  she  had  no 
trouble  in  penciling,  unobserved, 
upon  a  slip  of  paper,  these  words : 

"HARRY:  You  said  you  would 
come  whenever  I  called  on  you.  Be 
here  at  11  o'clock  to-night,  without 
fail,  and  come  prepared  for  any  emer- 
gency. CRANK" 

In  fifteen  minutes  she  stood  at  the 
gate,  fan  in  hand,  apparently  enjoy  - 
irg  the  ever- welcome  air  of  sultry 
summer  evenings,  but  in  reality 
watching  eagerly  for  the  appearance 
of  a  well-known  form. 

She  had  not  long  to   wait.     Hairy 


70 


and  Mr.  Baldwin  came  sauntering 
leisurely  along,  the  former  on  the  in- 
side of  the  walk.  The  instant  he 
reached  the  spot  where  Crank  waited 
he  felt  the  pressure  of  a  hand  in  his 
own,  and  when,  like  a  flash,  the  un 
known  grip  was  withdrawn,  a  cram- 
pled  note  to  d  him  that  an  explana- 
tion would  be  made  whenever  be 
should  get  an  opportunity  to  read. 
He  merely  glanced  at  the  woman,  but 
he  did  not  know  her,  although  he  did 
know  the  character  of  the  house,  and 
supposed  that  the  missive  so  myste- 
riously received  was  of  no  more  im 
portance  than  wculd  be  an  invitation 
to  a  soiree  of  a  questionable  character. 
Indeed,  such  he  supposed  it  to  be, 
and  was  in  no  particular  hurry  to  pe- 
ruse the  hastily  written  lines. 

But  when  he  did  read  the  words  that 
Cranky  Ann  had  penned,  it  had  the 
effect  of  an  electric  shock,  and,  taking 
hold  oi  the  arm  of  the  old  gentleman 
with  a  grasp  that  was  more  vigorous 
than  he  supposed,  he  sa.d: 

"  Mr.  Baldwin,  we  must  make 
haste  !  I  have  an  appointment  to- 
night that  I  must  keep  to  the  very 
second.  Let  us  take  a  street  car,  and 
reach  our  room  as  quickly  as  possi 
ble.  I  suppose  I  might  leave  you 
here,  but  with  the  assistance  of  the 
cars  there  is  plenty  of  time,  and  I 
may  need  one  or  two  small  articles 
that  I  left  behind  when  we  started  on 
our  rambles  up  and  down  the  ave- 
nue." 

Mr.  Baldwin  was  somewhat  sur- 
prised at  the  abruptness  of  the  an- 
nouncement made  by  his  young 
friend.  He  had  supposed  that,  as  the 
irght  advanced,  they  were  at  least  to 
remain  together,  and  probably  see 
some  ,more  of  Chicago  after  dark; 
and  the  old  man  hinted  as  much  to 
his  companion,  though  he  was  care- 
l ui  to  make  no  direct  mention  of  the 
matter. 

Harry  was  silent  for  some  time.  At 
h  iigth  he  said: 

"  I  see,  Mr.  Baldwin,  that  you  are 
:>  trifle  disappointed  at  what  I  have 
told  you ;  but  let  me  assure  you  that 
until  within  a  very  short  time  ago  I 


hid  no   idea  that  I  would    be   called 
away  from  \  ou." 

The  merchant  was  inclined  to 
doubt.  He  said: 

"Of  cours ',  I  understand  that  I 
have  i  o  claim  upon  your  time,  and  * 
would  not  demand  it  if  I  had;  but  it 
Appears  to  me  that  you  are  somewhat 
eccentric  in  your  statements.  What 
do  you  mean  by  a  very  short  timet" 

"  I  mean  that  uniil  about  five 
minutes  ago  I  had  no  idea  that  I 
should  be  called  away  from  you.  This 
may  seem  strange  to  you,  who  have 
been  with  me  constantly  for  several 
hours.  But  this  little  note,  that  was 
handed  me  as  we  have  been  walking 
along,  will  convi  ce  you  that  I  am  not 
trying  to  deceive  you." 

Mr.  Baldwin  took  the  note  signed 
by  Cranky  Ann,  and  carefully  pe- 
rused it. 

"  Who  gave  you  this,  Harry?"  he 
inquired. 

"  I  do  not  know,  positively,"  he 
replied,  "  but  nay  impression  is  that 
Crank  handed  it  to  me  herself.  She 
is  a  strange  girl,  Mr.  Baldwin,  tind 
some  day  you  will  know  more  of  her 
than  you  do  now,  even  though  she 
has  related  to  vou  the  history  of  her 
life." 

The  cars  soon  brought  them  down 
town  On  the  way  neither  had  epokr  n/ 
After  they  reached  the  pavement  Mr. 
Baldwin  said : 

''Harry,  what  does  this  sudden 
and  mysterious  call  on  you  mean?" 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,"  was  the  reply; 
"  the  woman  who  handled  it  to  me 
stood  at  the  gateway  of  a  very  select 
assignation  house,  to  which  none  are 
admitted  who  are  not  known  to  the 
keeper.  If  it  was  not  Crank  herself 
who  gave  it  to  me,  it  was  some  other 
girl,  probably  of  the  same  class.  That 
she  will  be  there,  I  am  certain;  but 
concerning  what  she  wants  of  me,  or 
why  she  wants  me  to  come  armed,  I 
am  entirely  ignorant." 

"  Why  not  let  me  go  with  you, 
Harry  ?" 

This  proposition  was  one  that  had 
not  entered  the  head  of  Harry  Har- 
per, and  it  startled  him.  From  the 
actions  of  Cranky  Ann,  and  from  the 


1-1 


tenor  ol  his  brief  message  on  paper, 
he  believed  that  an  adventure  not 
entirely  fiee  from  danger,  was  before 
him.  He  had  seen  Crank  face  to  face 
with  peril,  and  he  knew  that  such  a 
feeling  as  that  of  fear  had  never  found 
a  place  beneath  her  breast.  When, 
therefore,  she  asked  for  help,  it  was 
not  the  call  of  a  weak  and  timid  wo- 
man, but  rather  the  war  cry  of  a  star- 
tled tigress  when  its  young  was 
threatened  with  danger  from  a  pow 
erful  foe.  Into  such  an  adventure 
he  did  not  wish  to  lead  the  man  whom 
he  regarded  as  something  more  than 
a  friend,  and  whose  daughter  he  held 
in  an  esteem  that  he  scarcely  dared 
admit  even  to  himself.  But  hew 
could  he  sayjno? 

"  I  am  afraid,"  he  replied,  after  a 
pause,  "that  you  would  not  relish  an 
adventure  of  this  kind,  Mr.  Baldwin. 
Jt  may  possibly  be  dangerous  busi- 
ness that  I  am  called  upon  to  engage 
in." 

"  Then  why  do  you  go?  What  par- 
ticular claim  can  this  woman  have 
upon  you,  that  she  should  call  upon 
you  to  risk  perhaps  your  life  in  her 
behalf?"  - 

The  woman  herself  has  no  claim, 
but  she  seems  to  be  speaking  for 
some  one  else — it  may  be  some  one 
who  stands  in  need  of  the  protection 
of  an  arm  stronger  than  her  own." 

"  The  danger,  at  the  worst,  cannot 
be  very  great,  and  I  hope  you  will 
not  insist  upon  sharing  it  alone,  Har- 
ry, unless" — the  old  man  paused  a 
moment — "unless  it  is  of  a  private 
nature,  the  details  of  which  are  only 
known  to  Cranky  Ann  and  her  very 
confidential  friend." 

He  smiled  as  he  said  this,  and  the 
tone  of  his  voice  was  not  such  as 
could  give  offense,  though  the  words 
might  have  been  so  considered  had 
the}7  come  from  almost  any  other 
source. 

•'I  assure  you  that  there  isj'noth 
ing  that  I  know  cf  that  concerns  me, 
in  what  may  transpire  to  night.  I 
have  warned  you  of  possible  danger. 
I  have  endeavored  to  dissuade  you 
Irom  keeping  me  compnm,  because  I 
would  not  knowing!}'  lend  you  to 


any  spot  where  a  disturbance  would 
be  likely  to  take  place.  But  if,  know- 
ing all  that  I  have  told  you,  you  in 
sist  upon  going,  then  I  can  only  take 
you  by  the  hand  and  pledge  to  you 
the  protection  that  lies  in  this  right 
arm,  and  such  trusty  weapons  as  may- 
be necessary  to  meet  whatever  force 
may  threaten." 

"  Then  let  us  at  once .  prepare  for 
action,"   said  the  enthusiastic   mer 
chant,  as  they  entered  their  room. 

Two  hours  later,  Harry  Harper  and 
a  well-dressed  gentleman,  who  look- 
ed to  be  about  35  y^ars  of  age,  with 
dark  hair  and  waxed  mustache,  en- 
gaged a  hack  opposite  the  Sherman 
House,  and  instructed  the  driver  to 
take  them  without  delay  to  the  vi- 
cinity of  the  assignation  house. 

The  merchant  had  assumed  a  new 
disguise,  ,and  he  was  embarking 
upon  a  mission  that,  before  two 
hours  should  pass,  would  freeze  his 
blood  with  horror  ! 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

An  hour  was  spent  in  pleasant  con 
versation  by  the  strange  party  that 
had  congregated  in  the  parlor  ot 
k*  Mrs.  Robinson."  During  that  time 
Jack  Dunning  had  exercised  every 
art  within  his  knowledge  to  please 
Miss  Baldwin ;  and  he  had  succeeded ! 
His  manner  was  so  respectful,  his 
words  and  actions  were  so  gentle- 
manly, and  his  deceit  so  thoroughly 
covered  up,  that  the  merchant's 
daughter  discarded  the  doublings  ot 
the  afternoon,  cast  aside  as  unworthy 
of  credence  the  warnings  of  "Miss 
Martindale,"  and  permitted  herself 
to  be  charmed  by  the  human  snake 
who  was  seeking  to  encompass  her 
ruin. 

All  this  time  Cranky  Ann  conduc- 
ted herself  as  a  lady  of  education  and 
refinement  should.  Though  caretul 
not  to  interfere  with  or  interrupt  the 
interview  that  was  kept  up  between 
the  youti£  couple,  &bt  sufficiently 
identified  herself  with  the  conversa- 
tion to  make  her  presence  agreeable, 
and  at  the  same  time  watched  with 
sharp  eyes  the  movements  of  the  pro- 


curess,  and   the  villain  who  had  em 
ployed  her.  • 

Jagk  secretly  admired  the  street- 
walker's genius  in  playing  her  part — 
but  he  would  have  shuddered  could 
he  have  read  the  thoughts  that  agi- 
tated the  brain  of  Cranky  Ann  as  she 
smiled  upon  him,  upon  the  girl  who 
had  already  been  caught  in  a  trap, 
and  upon  the  hag  whose  roof  covered 
them! 

In  the  neighborhood  of  10  o'clock 
Crank  detected  signals  passing  be- 
tween Madame  Gibson  and  Jack, 
and  she  well  knew  that  deviltry  was 
on  foot. 

The  Madame  a  moment  later  ex- 
eused  herself,  and  soon  after  Jack, 
under  a  plausible  pretext,  also  left 
the  room,  and  the  two  friends  were 
alone! 

"Ok,  if  I  could  but  warn  her!" 
thought  Crank. 

But  how  could  she  ?  ^n  the  eyes 
of  Josephine  Baldwin,  Isabella  Mar- 
tindale  was  a  lady,  and  as  such  could 
not  know  of  any  conspiracy,  unless 
she  herself  were  as  guilty  as  the  oth- 
ers. 

As  these  thoughts  ran  through  her 
mind,  the  right  hand  of  the  street- 
walker disappeared  beneath  her  skirts, 
and  when  withdrawn  buried  itself  in 
her  bosom.  These  strange  actions 
were  expressly  designed  to  attract 
the  notice  of  the  merchant's  daugh- 
ter, and  they  were  successful. 

"  You  seem  to  be  somewhat  nerv- 
ous, Miss  Martindale,"  said  Jose- 
phine. 

"  Ah!  then  you  detected  my  move- 
ments just  now,  I  perceive,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  I  confess  that  I  did  think  you 
somewhat  eccentric  in  your  acts;  atd 
now  that  you  have  made  mention  of 
the  matter  youiself,  I  hope  you  will 
not  think  it  rude  if  I  inquire  your 
reasons  tor  what  many  would  deem  a 
strange  performance."  • 

'  Most  certainly  not,"  was  the    re 
pi  v  ;  and  then  Crank  continued  : 

"  We  are  two  women,  all  alone." 

The  street- walker  crossed  the  room, 
and  t  ok  a  seat  on  the  same  sofa  with 
Miss  Baldwin. 


"  Yes,  we  are  alone  at  present,  it 
seems,"  replied  Jopsephine. 

"  No  one  can  see,  no  one  can  hear." 

"  It  would  appear  not."  • 

Crank  then  arose,  raised  her  skirts, 
and  exposed,  beneath  the  striped  silk 
hose,  convenient  for  use  at  any  mo- 
ment, a  silver-mounted  revolverl 

Miss  Baldwin's  eyes  opened  wid« 
with  wonder,  but  she  had  not  an  op- 
portunity to  speak  before  Crank  had 
seized  her  hand,  and  thrusting  it 
quickly  beneath  the  folds  of  her  dress, 
it  rested  upon  the  cold  ivory  handle 
of  a  stilletto ! 

Withdrawing  her  hand  like  a  flash, 
the  daughter  of  the  merchant  recoiled 
and  trembled. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,"  said  the 
street- walker,  in  a  voice  whose  gen- 
tleness and  mildness  were  in  strange 
contrast  with  the  ugly  weapons  that 
she  carried. 

"  Now  feel  of  my  muscle,"  she  re- 
sumed. 

Miss  Baldwin  did  so.  It  was  hard 
as  iron. 

"  Please  tell  me  why  you  carry 
these  terrible  implements,"  pleaded 
the  innocent  young  woman,  whose 
alarm  had  vanished. 

"  I  can  tell  you  in  a  few  words," 
said  Crank;1,  "it  is  the  custom  J of 
Southern  ladies  to  perfect  themselves 
in  the  use  of  such  weapons  as  may  at 
some  time  be  needed  lor  self  protec- 
tion. And  it  is  also  usual,  in  our 
country,  to  develop  to  the  fullest  ex- 
tent every  physical  gilt  of  nature. 
As  forme,  I  consider  myself  the  equal 
of  any  man  in  the  art  of  using  the  re- 
volver or  the  knife,  and  there  are  few 
men  who  are  capable  of  standing  up 
before  me  without  a  weapon  of  any 
kind.  Thus,  you  see,  while  travel- 
ing, I  am  my  own  protector,  and 
never  have  cause  for  nervousness  or 
fear." 

In  coining  this  clever  fabrication, 
Cranky  Ann  had  a  motive,  that  per- 
haps the  reader  has  already  conceived. 
She  knew  that  in  less  than  an  hour  an 
exciting  scene  would  be  enacted  in 
that  house;  she  could  not  warn  Jose- 
phine Baldwin  of  the  impend  ing  dan- 
ger; but  she  could  and  would  give 


the  young  lady  some  assurance  of  pro 
tection,  and  this  was  the  quickly  de- 
vised way  she  took  to  do  it. 

Putting  her  arms  affectionately 
around  the  neck  of  her  companion, 
Cranky  Ann  drew  her  to  her  bosom 
and  kissed  her.  And  then  she  said 
with  a  kindly  smile: 

"  So  you  see,  my  dear  Miss  Bald- 
win, that  whenever  you  are  near  me 
you  have  a  companion  who,  though 
not  so  pleasing  nor  so  gallant  as  the 
handsome  young  son  of  our  amiable 
hostess,  is  yet  fully  as  able  to  pro- 
tect and  preserve  you  from  all  harm." 

Josephine  was  about  to  reply,  but 
she  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  Madame  Gibson. 

14  What !"  exclaimed  the  procuress, 
"  can  it  be  possible  that  my  son  has 
been  so  unpardonably  rude  as  to 
leave  you  two  ladies  all  alone  ?" 

The  old  woman  looked  and  talked 
as  though  she  was  really  surprised! 

44  The  ladies  will  excuse  me,  I  know, 
mother," said  Jack,  who  entered  at  that 
moment,  '4  when  they  know  that  it 
was  for  their  own  comfort  that  I  left 
them." 

14  The  day  has  been  quite  close," 
he  continued,  "and  I  am  sure  that 
the  refreshments  that  I  have  ordered 
from  the  restaurant  over  the  way 
will  be  more  acceptable  than  would 
have  been  my  dull  company!" 

The  "  refreshments  "  were  being 
prepared  in  that  very  house  1 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

When  Madame  Gibson  caught  the 
eye  of  Jack  Dunning,  she  knew  that 
he  wanted  to  see  her  alone,  and  that 
she  would  quickly  follow  when  he 
left  the  parlor.  She  waited  for  him 
in  the  hall,  and  when  he  made  his 
appearance  they  silently  and  with 
noiseless  tread  disappeared  through  | 
a  rear  door,  and  made  their  way  to  a 
room  in  the  basement,  where  none 
could  hear. 

"Well?"  said  the  Madame,  inquir 
ingly,  as  she  faced  him. 

There  was  a  dark,  foreboding  scowl 
upon  his  face. 

"  There  is   but  one    thing    to   be 


done!"  he  muttered,    in   low   tones 

The  procuress  understood  him 
well,  but  she  disliked  his  looks,  and 
pretended  she  did  not  know  what  he 
meant. 

44 1  see  that  you  are  getting  alon^ 
swimmingly,"  she  said,  with  a  forced 
smile. 

14  Getting  along  hellishly,  you  had 
better  say,"  was  the  coarse  and  gruff 
reply. 

"Why,  my  son,  I  really  thought 
you  had  captivated  the  gentle  liitle 
dove.  It  I  am  any  judge,  you  have 
progressed  remarkably  fast  in  your 
love-making." 

"Then  you  are  no  judge.  I  tell 
you,  Madame  Gibson,  that  girl  is  a 
lady,  and  all  the  arts  of  the  devil 
could  not  lure  her  from  the  path  of 
rectitude.  I  can  see  that  she  is 
pleased  with  my  attentions,  as  any 
lady  would  be  with  the  attentions  of 
a  gentleman  for  whom  she  entertains 
respect;  but  should  I  make  one  im- 
proper, or  even  indelicate  advance, 
she  would  spurn  me  from  her  with 
indignant  scorn,  and  forever  after 
there  would  be  between  us  a  moun- 
tain of  ice!" 

Again  that  sardonic  query  was  pro- 
pounded: 

"  Well  ?" 

44  You  know  your  business"  was  the 
suggestive  response,  and  a  devilish 
light  gleamed -in  the  eyes  that  met 
her  own. 

44  Don't  you  think  you  had  better 
try  peaceable  measures  for  a  few 
days,  Mr.  Dunning?  A  man  ot  your 
peculiar  powers  of  persuasion  could 
hardly  fail  to  win  the  confidence  of 
almost  any  young  beauty  in  Chi- 
cago." 

"  No  !  I  will  not  try  anything  ol 
the  kind,  lor  I  know  that  I  should  fail. 
To-night  we  have  her  !  Let  her  go, 
and  the  opportunity  has  passed  for- 
ever! There  is  no  occasion  to  wait 
another  half  hour,  not  another  min- 
ute, for  they  are  golden  now  !  Crank 
has  done  her  part  well.  She  is  true 
as  steel  and  sharper  than  chain  light- 
ning! One  glass  of  wine  wili  do  the 
business!  Come!  We  are  gone  too 
long  already  !  Let  a  collation  be 


75 


prepared,  and  trust  no  hand  but  your 
own  in  arranging  her  glass  of  wine .'" 

"I  have  already  ordered  lunch. 
As  to  the  rest,  trust  mt  /" 

No  more  was  said,  and  as  the  read- 
er already  knows,  they  both  returned 
to  the  parlor. 

Not  two  minutes  had  elapsed  when 
a  colored  waiter  announced  that  lunch 
was  waiting  them,  and  the  entire 
party  proceeded  to  a  large  room,  el 
egantly  furnished,  in  another  part  of 
the  house. 

"  A  little  wine  before  we  dine, 
mother,"  suggested  Jack,  smiling  at 
the  rhyme  he  had  unwittingly  perpe- 
trated. 

"  You  need  not  have  spoken,  my 
son,  tor  I  had  anticipated  the  wants 
of  our  friends,"  replied  the  Madame, 
blandly,  as  she  proceeded  to  a  closet, 
and  presently  appeared  with  a  silver 
tray,  on  which  were  four  wine  glasses, 
well  filled. 

It  was  offered  to  Cranky  Ann 
first. 

Had  not  Jack  Dunning  been  thor 
oughly  deceived,  he  would  have 
thought  it  strange  that  the  face  of  the 
street- walker  should  turn  to  scarlet, 
and  that  her  eyes  should  blaze  with 
unwonted  fire.  But  in  his  joy  he  did 
not  notice  anything,  and  thought  of 
nothing  but  the  prize  that  was  already 
within  his  grasp. 

Crank's  jeweled  hand  was  steady 
when  she  took  the  glass,  though*  her 
heart  was  beating  wildly,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  she  could  sit  still 
in  her  chair  and  witness  the  drugging 
ot  one  whom,  in  three  short  days, 
she  had  learned  to  love  as  she  had 
never  loved  man  or  woman  before. 

But  she  had  sworn  a  solemn  oath 
that  the  villains  should  be  foiled. 
She  had  two  trusty  weapons,  two 
strong  arms,  and  aheart  as  braveand 
true  as  ever  beat  in  human  breast. 

"Harry  wi  1  not  tail  me,"  she 
thought;  "  I  feel  that  he  is  near  me 
now;  but  if  he  does  " — 

She  pressed  hfr  hand  upon  her 
swelling  hosom,  and  felt  the  dagger's 
shape  !  The  revolver,  too,  was  in 
its  place  ! 

"A  toast!"  she  said,  just   as  they 


were  raising  the  wine  glasses  to  their 
lips. 

"A  toast!"  repeated  Madame  Gib- 
son, gleefully. 

Jack  was  somewhat  confused,  but 
he  q  lickly  gathered  his  thoughts  and 
prop  ised : 

'*  Let  us  eat,  drink,  be  merry  and 
laugh  long  and  loud  !" 

"  Hold  !"  cried  Crank,  as  the  glasses 
were  again  raised ;  "  let  me  offer  a 
sentiment!" 

"  You  honor  us  greatly,  Miss  Mar- 
tindale,"  bo  Wed  theMadarue  and  her 
son ;  and  in  clear  tones  t  he  street  • 
walker  said,  as  she  raised  her  glass : 

"  He  laughs  loudest  who  laugiis 
lastr 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Jack  Dunning  and  Madame  Gib- 
son were  both  deceived  by  the  sin- 
gular toast  offered  by  Cranky  Ann, 
just  as  they  were  raising  the  wine 
glasses  to  their  lips. 

"  He  laughs  loudest  who  laughs 
last!  Excellent!  Excellent!"  ex- 
claimed Jack;  "  I  drink  to  it  with  all 
my  heart  !" 

"  And  I  too,"  said  the  procuress, 
raising  her  glass. 

"  Oh,  God  !  why  does  he  not 
come?"  were  the  unspoken  words 
that  trembled  upon  the  lips  of  Cranky 
Ann,  whose  mental  excitement  was 
terrible.  Should  she  permit  Miss 
Baldwin  to  drink  the  "  prepared  " 
wine?  She  had  delayed  as  long  as 
was  possible.  It  was  eleven  o'clock! 
The  supreme  moment  had  arrived  ! 
The  poisoned  cup  already  touched 
the  lips  of  the  innocent  young  wo- 
man !  Another  instant,  and  through 
her  blue  veins  would  course  n  subtle 
drug !  Swifter  than  an  electric  cur- 
rent the  thought  flashed  upon  the 
mind  of  the  street -walker: 

"  Miss  Baldwin  is  a  woman  of  del- 
icate constitution.  The  sleeping 
draught  may  be  too  strong.  //  may 
kill!" 

These  thoughts  ran  through  her 
mind  a  thousand  times  qmcker  than 
tongue  could  utter  them,  and  the 
street- walker  no  longer  hesitated — 


76 


Josephine  Baldwin  should  not  drink  1 
She  listened  with  ears  sharp  as 
those  of  an  Indian  on  the  war  path, 
but  heard  no  approaching  footstep. 
•  Her  whole  system  was  worked  up 
to  a  fearful  pitch  of  excitement.  Her 
veins  were  swollen  to  twice  their 
usual  size,  her  muscles  were  like 
cords  ol  iron,  her  eyes  flashed  with 
unnatural  brilliancy  !  The  street 
walker  was  on  fire  with  excitement ! 

With  a  sweet  smile  upon  her  beau 
tiful  face,  Josephine  Baldwin  raised 
the  frosted  glass  ! 

But  it  never  reached  her  lips  ! 

So  quick  that  the  movement  could 
hardly  be  perceived.  Cranky  Ann 
seized  the  arm  of  hert'riead,  and  the 
tender  vessel  that  held  the  drugged 
wine  dropped  to  the  marble  table  and 
was  shattered  to  pieces! 

The  shock  was  so  great  that  with 
one  shrill  shriek,  Miss  Baldwin  fell 
fainting  to  the  carpeted  floor! 

Both  Madame  Gibson  and  Jack 
Dunning  were  thunderstruck  1  Their 
surprise  and  astonishment  were  so 
great  that  for  a  moment  neither  could 
speak ! 

With  a  fearful  oath  Jack  sprang  to 
bis  feet,  and  glared  with  savage  fury 
upon  the  street- walker,  who  remained 
in  her  chair,  with  a  calmness  and  firm- 
ness that  was  indeed  wondertul. 

"  Crank,  d — n  your  soul,  what  have 
you  done  ?"  he  hissed. 

"  I  have  merely  spilled  a  little 
pure  wine,  Jack,"  was  her  provingly 
cool  reply. 

"Slutl  hussy!  traitor!"  cried  the 
infuriated  man,  losing  all  control  of 
himself,  "  you  shall  pay  for  that  wine 
with  your  own  blood  !" 

He  had  already  drawn  a  knife,  and 
was  ready  to  spring  upon  her,  when 
Madame  Gibson  interfered.  That 
quick-witted  woman  did  not  care  to 
have  a  tragedy  enacted  in  her  houre. 
The  consequences,  not  the  crime^  was 
what  troubled  the  old  woman. 

"  Jack,"  she  said,  with  all  the  mild- 
ness she  could  in  her  excitement 
muster,  "  do  not  forget  yourself !  By 
attacking  this  false  woman,  you  lose 
your  beautiful  prize!  Seel  She  is 
senseless  upon  the  floor  !  Go  and 


take  her,  and  leave  this  friend  of 
yours  to  me!  You  can  settle  with 
her  hereafter !" 

Probably  no  other  argument  would 
have  struck  Jack  Dunning  with  such 
force.  In  his  rage,  he  had  for  a  mo- 
ment forgotten  the  sole  object  of  that 
night's  adventure. 

"  You  are  right,  Madame,"  he  said, 
"for  the  present  I  will  leave  this 
street- walking  hag  in  your  care,  but 
I  will  have  a  settlement  with  her 
hereafter.  I  will  teach  her  a  lesson 
that  she  will  never  forget.  I  will  see 
you  again,  Cranky  Ann,"  were  his 
sarcastic  words,  as  he  turned  and 
made  a  movement  in  the  direction  of 
the  prostrate  young  lady. 

'•You  will  please  come  with  me 
into  another  room,"  was  the  severely 
spoken  solicitation  of  the  procuress 
to  the  street -walker. 

"You  will  please  go  to  hell,  where 
you  belong,"  returned  Crank,  with 
mock  gravity.  «• 

But  she  was  not  in  a  merry  mood 
just  then!  With  a  quick  movement 
she  drew  back  her  right  arm,  and 
planted  a  blow  in  the  face  of  the  hag 
that  sent  her  reeling  and  staggering 
across  the  room.  In  her  fall  she 
struck  the  marble  mantle,  and  the 
next  second  she,  too,  was  insensible 
on  the  floor,  with  a  gash  in  her  head 
that  looked  ugly  and  bled  freely. 

This  little  by-play  took  place  be- 
fore Jack  Dunning  had  reached  Miss 
Baldwin.  He  turned  with  the  wild 
glare  of  a  demon  in  his  black  eyes, 
and  once  more  the  bright  blade  of 
that  dreadful  kniie  glittered  in  the 
gas-light! 

"  May  the  devil  damn  your  sou1 !" 
he  cried,  as  he  drew  the  knife. 

"Stop!"  exclaimed  Cranky  Ann, 
in  a  commanding  voice. 

The  maddened  man  could  not  re- 
sist the  order.  He  stood  like  a  pan- 
ther waiting  to  spring  upon  his  prey. 

"  Jack  Dunning,"  said  the  street- 
walker, with  a  command  over  her 
emotions  that  was  wonderful,  "throw 
away  that  knife  and  I  will  fight  you 
hand  to  hand  !" 

"  Fool  1  I  could  choke  the  life  out 
of  your  rotten  carcass  in  five  seconds, 


77 


but  I  had  rather  see  the  crimson  as  it 
flows  from  your  false  heart !  You 
will  never  betray  another  man  as  you 
have  me  !  If  you  have  a  prayer  to 
say,  Cranky  Ann,  say  it  quick,  for  in 
a  minute  from  now  you  will  be  in 
hell  !" 

*'  I  have  one  short  little  prayer,  if 
you  will  let  me  say  it!" 

She  was  calm,  but  oh!  how  painful 
was  the  effort ! 

"  Go  on,  you  cursed  slut,  and  be 
quick  1" 

"  It  is  only  this!"  and  her  voice 
suddenly  leaped  with  the  violence  ol  a 
hurricane  from  her  throat  as  she 
screamed: 

"  God  damn  Jack  Dunning  /'* 

There  was  a  cocked  revolver  in  her 
hand  as  she  spoke,  but  in  the  blind- 
ness of  his  iury  he  saw  it  not  1 

Just  as  he  sprang  toward  her  the 
heroic  girl  pulled  the  trigger  ! 

The  treacherous  weapon  proved 
false ! 

With  a  presence  of  mind  that'was 
remarkable,  Crank  avoided  the  at- 
tack of  her  infuriated  enemy  by 
quickly  stepping  aside. 

In  doing  so  the  revolver  was  again 
cocked,  and  held  in  her  left  hand, 
while  in  her  right  was  firmly  clasped 
a  weapon  that  never  fa  Is  ! 

At  that  moment  there  was  a  crash 
at  the  front  door,  and  Harry  Harper, 
as  it  led  by  instinct,  leaped  into  the 
room! 

'•Thank  God  you  have  come!" 
cried  Crank. 

Like  a  tiger  at  bay  Jack  leaped 
upon  her. 

But  a  hand  more  powerful  than  his 
own  had  him  by  the  neck  before  he 
reached  the  defiant  girl,  and  then  and 
there,  without  a  word,  a  "rough-and- 
tumble"  fight  occurred  such  as  has  sel- 
dom been  witnessed  in  Chicago.  The 
knife  was  quickly  wrested  from  the 
villain's  hand,  Cranky  Ann  taking 
possession  of  it.  The  brave  girl 
watched  the  battle  with  eager  eyes, 
and  stood  ready  at  any  time  to  ren 
der  Harry  such  assistance  as  might 
be  needed.  * 

But  he  required  none. 

In    less    than  five   minutes   Jack 


Dunning  yelled  like  a  whipped  cur 
for  mercy.  The  blows  and  the  kicks 
that  he  had  received  were  given  with 
such  rapidity  and  force  that  his  only 
defence  was  a  vain  effort  to  avoid 
them. 

As  soon  as  he  begged  for  mercy 
Cranky  Ann,  who  had  a  high  sense  of 
what  is  known  among  sporting  peo- 
ple as  "  honor,"  interceded  in  his 
behalf,  and  the  battle  ended. 

"When  a  man  says  enough"  said 
Crank,  "  I  hate  to  see  him  pounded ; 
but  God  knows  Jack  Dunning  de- 
serves to  die  a  dog's  death  this  verjr 
night,  and  I  believe  he  would  if  he 
had  been  left  to  me  !" 

Jack  was  fearfully  disfigured.  He 
had  nothing  whatever  to  say,  but 
sneaked  out  of  the  house  at  once. 

There  wag  another  witness  to  this 
contest.  The  merchant,  completely 
horrified,  and  scarcely  knowing  what 
to  do  or  say,  stood  at  the  open  door, 
staring  with  startled  gaze  upon  a 
sight  such  as  he  had  never  seen  be- 
fore 1 

The  confusion  over,  Harry  Harper 
looked  around,  and  his  glance  rested 
upon  the  senseless  and  bleeding  form 
of  Madame  Gibson. 

"  Who  did  this?"  he  inquired. 

"  2  did 7"  replied  Crank,  with  par- 
donable pride  in  her  voice  and  looks, 
"and  I'm  glad  of  it!"  Harry  then 
turned,  and  his  gaze  fell  upon  the 
prostrate  form  of  Josephine  Baldwin. 
He  recognized  her  instantly,  and 
with  a  deathly  pallor  in  his  face  and 
trembling  voice,  he  grasped  Crank 
by  the  arm  and  whispered  huskily : 

"  In  the  uame  of  God,  how  came 
she  here  ?" 

At  the  same  time  he  confronted 
Mr.  Baldwin,  and  the  idea  flashed 
upon  his  mind  that  it  would  be  a 
kindness  to  hide  from  him  the  fact  of 
his  daughter's  presence  in  that 
bouse. 

But  he  was  too  late.  The  old  gen- 
tleman had  caught  one  glimpse  at 
the  woman  on  the  floor,  and  wildly 
rushing  forward  he  exclaimed  with 
choking  utterance: 

"Josephine!   My  child  I" 


78 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

The  scene  at  the  assignation  house 
was  one  so  exciting  and  so  thrilling 
thata  description  would  be  utterly  im- 
possible. 

Jof-eplune  Baldwin  heard  her  fath- 
er's wild  cry.  She  knew  the  voice, 
and  with  returning  consciousness 
gazed  hewilderingly  around  the 
room. 

Father  and  daughter  embraced 
each  other  with  streaming  eyes,  and 
a  warmth  and  terror  that  only  comes 
with  grief. 

Harry  Harper  {urned  to  Cranky 
Ann.  who  was  the  only  person  in  the 
room  that  had  retained  anything  like 
composure. 

"  I  know  you,  Crank,"  he  whis- 
pered, "  by  your  voice ;  and  I  believe 
you  can  explain  this  whole  unhappy 
affair.  Will  you  do  so  ?" 

'  This  is  hardly  a  suitable  place 
lor  this  young  lady  to  remain  in," 
replied  Crank;  "If  you  have  a  car- 
riage, we  had  better  at  once  leave 
it." 

This  advice  of  the  street-walker 
was  acted  upon,  and  in  two  minutes 
all  were  ready  to  go. 

"  What  shall  be  done  with  this 
woman  ?"  inquired  Harry,  pointing 
to  the  procuress. 

"  Let  her  die  !  Let  the  hag  rot !" 
was  the  reply  of  the  indignant  and 
excited  woman. 

And  they  left  her  as  she  was,  and 
were  soou  wheeling  in  silence  toward 
the  residence  of  the  merchant. 

Upon  arriving,  Cranky  Ann,  with- 
out addressing  any  of  the  others,  and 
purposely  avoiding  the  gaze  of  Miss 
Baldwin,  called  Harry  aside,  and 
they  held  a  "whispered  consultation, 
at  the  end  of  which  Harry  took  Mr. 
Baldwin  by  the  hand  and  said : 

"  My  friend,  there  is  a  mystery  to 
be  cleared  up  to-night.  In  half  an 
hour  we  will  return,  and  then  you 
shall  both  know  all." 

Entering  the  hack,  they  rapidly 
drove  away. 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  Baldwin  nar- 
rated to  his  daughter  a  part  of  his 
experiences  while  in  the  company  of 


Harry  Harper,  c  mitting,  however,  aH 
reference  to  Cranky  Ann. 

Josephine  also  had  a  strange  story 
to  tell — the  visit  of  Miss  Martindale, 
the  attempted  robbery,  the  rescue, 
the  strange  disappearance  of  the 
brave  young  man,  and,  finally,  that 
afternoon's  ride,  and  its  incompre- 
hensible termination 

The  bell  rang,  and  both  Mr.  Bald- 
win and  his  daughter  answered  the 
summons. 

When  the  door  opened  Harry  Har- 
per walked  in,  followed  by  Cranky 
Ann,  painted,  powdered,  and  dressed 
exactly  as  she  was  when  Mr.  Bald- 
win first  met  her  on  the  street,  a  lew 
days  before. 

The  merchant  stood  back  in  amaze- 
ment ! 

"  Harry,"  he  said,  "  why  have  you 
brought  that  woman  to  my  house  ?  ' ' 

Josephine,  in  alarm,  came  forward 
and  demanded: 

"  What  have  you  done  with  Miss 
Martindale,  Mr.  Harper  ?" 

"Miss  Martindale  no  longer!"  ex 
claimed  the  street- walker;  and  before 
any  one  could  interrupt  her  she  stood 
in  the  middle  of  the  parlor  and  con- 
tinued : 

"  I  came  here  in  disguise,  Miss 
Baldwin  !  I  was  a  false  friend  to  you 
at  first,  but  at  the  last,  true  !  Here- 
after, you  must  not  know  me,  for  I 
am  not  Miss  Martindale,  a  lady,  as 
you  supposed,  but  only  CRANKT  ANN, 
THE  STREET  WALKER! — only  a  poor 
girl  on  the  town  1" 

She  almost  broke  down  with  emo- 
tion as  she  uttered  the  words. 

Harry  Harper  then  told  his  story, 
and  in  doing  so  he  did  not  fail  to 
place  the  acts  of  Cranky  Ann  in  a 
light  truly  heroic. 

When  Josephine  Baldwin  had 
heard  all,  she  fairly  rushed  towards 
Cranky  Ann,  clasped  her  arms  about 
the  street- walker' s  neck,  folded  her 
to  her  bosom,  and  wept  as  though 
her  heart  would  break  1 

"  Not  know  you  ?  "  she  cried ;  "  not 
know  the  preserver  of  my  life  ?  Not 
know  the  brave  woman  who  has  stood 
as  a  shield  of  steel  and  wall  of  iron 
between  me  and  harm  ?* 


79 


She  fairly  hugged  poor  Crank,  and 
the  two  women  wept  ! 

Miss  Baldwin  continued: 

"  Henceforward  you  are  my  friend  1 
I  care  not  what  you  have  been  ;  I  know 
what  you  are,  and  I  know  that  you 
are  brave,  noble  and  true !  If  before 
you  come  here  you  were  bad,  it  must 
have  been  because  you  were  driven 
to  it,  as  good  and  noble  women  are, 
alas  !  so  often  driven  to  do  that  which 
in  their  souls  they  loathe  !  Whatever 
maybe  your  name,  whatever  your 
shame,  whatever  your  guilt,  1  love 
you,  and  from  this  day  onward  yo j 
are  my  chosen  companion,  my  dear 
friend ;  and  whoever  does  not  wish  to 
recognize  you,  can  pass  me  by  too  1" 

Alan  son  Baldwin  then  came  for- 
ward.  His  hand  trembled  as  he 
reached  it  out  to  clasp  that  of  Cranky 
Ann,  and  he  embraced  her  as  a  father 
would  embrace  a  child. 

"  My  daughter  has  spoken  like  a 
true  woman,"  he  said,  manifesting 
much  feeling,  "  and  her  faljter  can  do 
no  less  than  say  amen  to  every  word. 
Your  sad  history,  my  dear  young 
woman,  I  have  heard  from  your  own 
lips  !'  In  me  you  probably  recognize 
the  disguised  man  who^went  with 
•ou  to  your  room,  and  by  Kind  words 
yersuaded  you  to  reveal  the  history 
pf  your  checkered  career.  You  prom- 
ised to  meet  me  againgin  ten  days 
The  time  has  not~«^^  -  me' 

developr--1Jta   Ol   to-night  convince 
laic  th»  r  tne   reasons  for  your  delay 
•  «ed    to  exist.     You    little 

•ugh     that  the   bad  man  who  em- 
>loycd  you  that  night,   was  conspir- 
ing against  the  daughter  of  him  who 
sought  to  save  you  from  sin  1     You 
euiered  into  that  dark  compact  with 
iesitation;your  better  instincts  pre- 
vailed ;    four   heart   was  warmed  to 
me;  you  turned  upon   villainy   with 
horror;  you  •  became   the   champion 
and  defende/r  of  right  and  virtue ;  you 
have  saved  )me  and  mine  from  worse 


than  death;  and  now,  in  return,  I  beg 
of  you  to  accept  fie  poor  offering  of 
a  home,  and  of  friends  who  will  cher- 
ish and  love  you  as  earnestly,  as 
faithfully  and  as  truly  as  though  you 
had  never  been  a  woman  of  the 
town  I" 

The  old  man  kissed  her  as  he  con- 
cluded, and  Crank,  entirely  overcome 
by  such  unexpected  kindness,  wept 
like  a  child  ! 

That  washer  answer.  It  was  more 
eloquent  than  words;  for  one  tear, 
one  pressure  of  the  hand,  one  sigh  of 
relief  from  a  terrible  bondage,  re- 
veals the  heart's  promptings  as  noth- 
ing else  can. 

Our  story  is  well  nigh  told.  Cranky 
Ann  burned  every  rag  she  wore  as  a 
street- walker.  She  assumed  another 
name,  and  now  stands  high  in  the  es- 
timation of  all  who  know  her. 

Harry  Harper  at  once  accepted  a 
position  of  trust  in  the  store  of  Alan- 
son  Baldwin.  He  discontinued  his 
wild  and  dissipated  habits,  makes  the 
residence  of  his  employer  his  Tioine, 
and  himself  and  Josephine  'baldwiw 
are  constant  ons  at  hours 

when  duty  does  tfr}»  require  his  atten- 
tion. jS* 

MadamgtiMbson  was  not  seriously 
hurt;  an^Wack  Dunning  has  not  bee* 
seen  im  the  city  since  that  night  on 
-.. mch  his  dark  designs  were  so  suc- 
cessfully frustrated. 

The  son  of  the  merchant  was  cured 
ot  his  infatuation  for  "  Miss  Martin- 
dale,"  but  he  is  a  staunch  friend  of 
'hat  woman  in  her  new  name  and 
life,  and  is  proud  to  call  himself  her 
brother. 

Alanson  Baldwin  does  not  wish  to 
see  any  more  of  CHICAGO  IN  CHI;> 
He  is  satisfied  with  the  tew  nights  of 
adventure  and  excitement  which  he 
has  already  experienced ;  and  to  his 
dying  day  he  will  bless  the  night  on 
which  he  met  CRANKY  ANN,  THB 
STREET  WALKBR. 


TUK-  KND. 


A:, 

a 

RE 


I  '