OSCAR MAKES GOOD HIS PROMISE AND AIDED BY CAD METTI, THE WONDERFUL FEMALE DETECTIVE, PERFORMS ONE OF THE GREATEST FEATS IN ALL DETECTIVE RECORDS.

Like a night sprite Cad glided away and Oscar fell to the shadow of the man Redalli. He followed him to the Hoboken ferry, crossed on the same boat with him, and saw him enter a house situated in the midst of a large plot of ground covered by lines of trees.

The detective was satisfied. He had the meeting-house, as he called it, located. He had Redalli located, and he started back toward the ferry and had gone but a few squares when he was joined by Cad and another detective. Cad was in her ordinary garb as a well-dressed young miss, only that she wore a veil drawn down over her face.

"It's all right," said our hero. He was jubilant, and he proceeded to relate all that had passed while he sat listening in the Credo eyrie.

It was well on toward three o'clock in the morning when the party walked on board the boat to return to New York, and they had just seated themselves on the boat when a party of roughs, numbering seven or eight, entered the cabin. The men were very boisterous and ready for a muss, as the saying goes. They talked loud and laughed violently, and soon their eyes rested on the three detectives. The two males as they were gotten up did not look like very formidable individuals, and the fact that Cad was veiled attracted their attention. They ranged themselves on the seats directly opposite to where the three detectives were located and our hero at once detected that there was going to be a jolly row—jolly as far he and his companions were concerned—for both the men were athletes and boxers, of the first order. To them the knocking down of two or three ordinary men was a mere pastime, and as our readers know the wonderful Cad was not much behind when it came to a shindy. She could have given the famous strong woman who a few years ago appeared on the stage points in many athletic feats. One of the men looking over toward Cad said:

"There's a beauty."

The detectives exchanged looks.

They had taken the measures of the rowdies.

"How do you know?" asked one of the men.

"I'll bet on it."

"You will?"'

"Yes."

"How will you prove it?"

"I'll prove."

"How?"

"That's my end of it."

"You'll bet she is a beauty?"

"Yes, I will."

"How much?"

"A bottle."

"And you are to prove it?"

"Yes."

"I'll take the bet."

The fellow who had offered to make the bet immediately rose, crossed the cabin to where Cad sat and said:

"Say, miss, you've heard the bet. Raise your veil and let me win. I know you are a beauty."

The men all laughed. They thought it evidently the joke of their lives; to them it was immense.

It was so destined to turn out. Immense was no name for what followed, and it is very unfortunate that similar roysterers do not run up against a like party.

"Come, miss," urged the man, "I've paid you a compliment. You ain't a-going to let me lose my bet?"

Cad paid no attention to the fellow, and his companions jeered. One said:

"She daren't raise her veil, or she'll make you lose, sure."

The man who had bet exclaimed:

"You've lost; I've got a bottle on you."

"Not yet; come, miss, you won't see me lose."

All this time the two detectives had sat silent. They knew what would follow, and just when to come in with the sledge hammer part of the farce. Yes, they were ready in good time to play the anvil chorus on the heads of the lively gang of insulters. It was just their pie, as the slang phrase has it.

"You've lost," cried the better.

"Come, come, miss, do you hear what he says? I know you're a beaut. Raise your veil and give me the laugh on him."

Cad sat mute, and finally the man said:

"I can't lose; I've got to see your face if I lift your veil myself."

"Yes, yes, raise and expose her mugg," cried one; "if she were a beaut she would'nt let you lose that way. Lift her veil."

It was time for Oscar to interfere and he said:

"That will do, young fellow."

"Will it?" cried the man in a fierce tone.

"Yes."

"What have you got to say about it anyhow?"

"This lady is in my company, under my protection."

"Oh, is she?"

"She is."

"Well, here goes."

The man grabbed Cad's veil and raised it, disclosing her really lovely face, and at the same instant he uttered a yell of triumph, but the next moment he roared forth a yell of pain and rage, for Oscar had leaped to his feet, dealt the man a clipper square on the nose and over he went. The rest of the gang immediately set up a yell, leaped to their feet and made a rush, and the next instant there followed a regular young riot, but the fun of the thing was all on one side. The other officer also leaped to his feet and started in on the tattoo act. He just swung around like a revolving wheel with distended cogs, and every time he revolved down went one of the men, and Cad just stood up on the seat and laughed. The laugh in fact had bounded over to the opposite side of the cabin from where it first started. As the men who were downed attempted to regain their feet they got it again, and got it good. The two detectives having dropped the rascals with their fists gave them the balance of their dose with leather, and they did leather them well, kicking them over the floor of the cabin like stuffed bladders. The deck hands heard the noise, ran to the doors, and taking in the situation remained aloof. They were glad to see the rowdies get a whacking; glad that for once the assailants had run up against the wrong crowd. The rowdies bled and yelled, bled for their impertinence, yelled in dismay and terror, for they feared they would be beaten to death. They pleaded for mercy, and all the time the ferry boat kept on its way; and about the time our friends had fun enough the boat slid into her slip, and with a merry good-night to the discomfited and bleeding insulters Oscar and his friends proceeded ashore.

On the day following the incidents we have recorded our hero, Wise, the special, and several other officers held a consultation. To Wise alone did our hero reveal the importance and extent of the information he had secured, and a plan was arranged.

At the time named Oscar met the woman Libbie and he played her well—played for time, for his whole plan had been changed. One thing had led up to another, and the one little racket he had at first intended to work had been put aside for a new one under the latest developments.

He parted from the woman, threw her and her friends off his track and lay low for a fresh "shadow" on Redalli, and in due time he got on the track of his man.

Several days passed, and Cad and Oscar followed their lead. Our hero several times met the woman Libbie Van Zant and made her feel very good. He played the dupe to perfection; let it appear that he was dead gone on the siren; pretended to reveal everything to her, while in fact he was just getting his points from time to time and keeping her friends under close observation through her. He had constant access to the secret room in the house of Credo, listened to a great many consultations, and at length learned just the right facts for making one of the greatest hauls in the history of crime. He trailed to the delivery of the counterfeit goods at the house in Hoboken, and had every reason to believe that the plates also were all stowed away under one roof. Indeed, it appeared in plain words as though he were destined to capture not only all the manufactured stuff, but the complete outfit of the counterfeiters, the labor of years.

On the night when the great raid was to be made Dunne met Wise and his assistants. All the plans were completed and Wise said, at a proper moment:

"Dunne, you are the detective of the age."

At the proper time the detectives one by one stole over to Hoboken. They took up their station, waiting for signals. Oscar had fallen into the wiles of the siren. She had arranged with him to take him to the house—she had played as she supposed a great card. She believed she had the name of every detective engaged on the "shadow" and she became bolder; told our hero she had in the interest of her brother and the detective beguiled one of the gang; informed him that she could introduce him into the house where the whole gang was to meet; that she would be able to identify every man of them. She even professed to have fallen in love with Oscar, played the alluring siren to perfection, and it was in her company that our hero proceeded to Hoboken to be introduced into the house and hidden at a point where he could see and overhear. In talking to Girard the woman had said:

"I've got him dazzled. The man believes in me as he does in his own mother. He is like wax in my hands. I can do with him as I choose."

"Are you sure he is not fooling you?"

"Am I sure? Yes, I am sure. I will have him in that house to-night. You will discover him and drag him forth. The plan will be carried out: At the proper time the riot will commence and in the mÊlÉe down he goes."

"I hope it is as you say. I would not chance even on your positive assurance, but Redalli says it is all right, and he is the boss. He takes the responsibility."

As intimated, Oscar started for Hoboken in company with the siren and two trusty men followed his steps. Our hero was determined that there should be no miss. He had provided against every possible contingency. He arrived at the house. Oscar had been seemingly persuaded that the siren's brother was to be their guide, that she had fooled him for his own eventual good. Arrived at the house the siren signaled and a young man, supposed to be the woman's brother, opened the door. The woman asked:

"Have they arrived?"

"No one has arrived yet."

"Then I can secrete my friend."

"Certainly; but, sister, remember, I am trusting you and believe it is for your and my eventual good that I consent to act in this matter."

"You can trust me."

"If not you, whom can I trust?"

"I am acting for your good."

To Oscar the woman explained after they had entered the house that she had her brother deceived on a false "steer," but she added: "You know it is to save him."

"Oh, certainly."

Oscar was led down the stairs, led to the basement and then to the cellar. A lantern was produced and a door was disclosed, showing that an excavation had been made and a room built under the yard of the house. All the arrangements were very cunningly made. When the door was opened our hero hesitated and the woman asked:

"What is the matter?"

In a tone of fearfulness Oscar said:

"I have been betrayed."

"Betrayed?" repeated the woman.

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"You."

The woman laughed and said:

"But I thought you were a man of courage. Go on; I will go with you."

Oscar delayed a moment, making some remark, until he heard a signal—a very tiny signal, but it was big and loud in its suggestions to him. He stepped into the passage and a moment later a second door opened. The secret room was disclosed and at least a dozen masked men who had been seated at a long table arose. At the instant, as our hero recoiled, the cold muzzles of two revolvers were placed on either cheek and a voice said:

"Go ahead; you can't back out now."

It was a supreme moment of peril. Our hero had friends at hand, but alas! ere his friends could announce themselves the deed of horror might have been perpetrated. It was indeed a critical moment, but Oscar was cool. He stepped forward and was pushed toward a seat, and the men gathered at the table. All sat down also.

There followed a moment's silence. Oscar looked around. Near him stood the siren who had allured him into the den, and her whole expression of countenance had changed. She looked like a beautiful fiend as her eyes gleamed with delight and the red glow of triumph flushed her features. She was proud. She had promised to deliver the detective into the hands of his intending assassins, and she had made good her word.

"So you have betrayed me," said Oscar.

"Yes," answered the woman, "I have betrayed you."

"The story about your brother was a lie."

"All these gentlemen are my brothers."

"And what now, woman?"

"You have just five minutes to live. You were set to destroy us; we will destroy you."

"Poor creature," said Oscar in a tone of deep commiseration.

The woman glared, for there was a terrible significance in his tones, and she shouted:

"Down him and make sure."

Alas! the arrangements fortunately were run on seconds, not minutes, or our hero would have been a dead man. As the woman shouted "Down him!" there came a second, voice, stern and commanding:

"Hold! don't let a man move or every soul of you dies."

There was a tableau at that moment such as never has been equaled on the stage under all the complexity of colored lights. It was a scene never to be forgotten by any of the witnesses, a scene awful in its intensity of dramatic effect. The woman suddenly appeared to become frozen with horror. The men removed their masks in their excitement and their pale visages shone like so many corpses as all leaned forward and listened and looked.

In the doorway stood two men, armed with repeating rifles. Behind them crowded others, and at that instant every one of those wretches know that defeat and capture stared them in the face. All their labor, all their cunning and their skill had come to naught. All realized that the greatest detective feat on record had been accomplished. All knew that there was no escape, unless quickly with their own hands they freed themselves through the grave.

The detectives filed into the room, but the siren had recovered her nerve. She saw and realized that she had not played but had been played. Quickly she drew a revolver, aimed at Oscar and fired, but our hero's quick eye detected her movement. It was not the first time he had dodged a bullet. The woman fired but the one shot. The next instant the darbies were on her tender wrists, and we will add that no resistance was offered. The men, as intimated, were well up in their trade. From the first instant they knew that in plain, vulgar language, their "jig was up." Every man quietly submitted. Life was dear to them. Every man had been behind prison walls. A surrender meant a return to jail; resistance meant death. They, as stated, all accepted the situation and quietly surrendered.

Immediately the detectives set to work to gather up their spoils and learn the full value of their wondrous victory. It proved to be a complete victory indeed. All the manufactured stock was secured, the flood of counterfeits was averted, for the well-being of the business community. The plates even that had cost thousands and thousands of dollars were captured. They were never buried in the cellar to be found by some future archÆologist. To conclude it was the greatest capture of counterfeiters' outfit ever made, and to Cad Metti and Oscar belonged all the credit; and from the profession and the government they received it. Dudie Dunne went up to the top as a great officer, and in a future narrative we will relate where these two wonderful people once more entered the field and accomplished great results. We will also tell the romance of the life of the bright, beautiful Italian girl who from choice became a female detective strategist.

THE END.