NOW {the "N" is ornamental text} to go back to our friend Bird, who is ever ready to take his cue and appear upon the scene of action. Tom, we find, is still at that ledger, struggling against those awful figures which he has many times mastered, and will again. Patient, steady Tom, work on; your day is not far distant; you have many adventures to experience, dangers to encounter, false friends to make, and must look even upon the darkest side of human nature, ere we can pronounce you 'true to the core;' but we fear not for thee, friend Tom; thou art indeed a noble, who will yet show letters patent, written on the pure face of nature.

"Hello, Tom, 'old rocks,' how goes it?" The speaker had just entered, and Tom was somewhat startled at the salutation. "Little" Gus Dobson, some of his friends called him; while others amused themselves by applying to him such names as "Shorty Dob," "Gus the Masher," "Squab Dobson," and many others more expressive and less elegant. Gus--we have his portrait, life size, in our mind's eye--was a character indeed, and a very broad one at that. He was small, 'tis very true, but he didn't feel small, for the fact cannot be long concealed that Gus thought very highly of himself. It was no uncommon thing for him to talk about putting "heads" on men at least a foot and a-half taller than himself; and his description of various encounters in which he nightly figured as the hero, was sufficient to take away the breath of any man--who believed him. The fact is, our diminutive friend was really aching for something astonishing in the way of adventure; and as he had never, as yet, met with any of a startling kind, his highly wrought imagination supplied the want. At the time our narrative opens, Gus Dobson, Esq.--the Esquire being a little innocent title which he invariably added to his name, both in writing and when speaking of it--Gus had, we were about to remark, recently obtained a position in Mr. Dallas' store as--well, most anything, and "salary no object."

"Well, Gussie, how are you, this morning?"

"Oh, first rate; but look here, Tom, I don't like that 'Gussie,' it sounds too boyish. Now I know that I'm with Mr. Dallas to learn the business--which means to run errands--but that's because my 'Governor' is rich; for, don't you see, if he wasn't I should be working on a salary just as you are. Besides, 'old boy,' I'm nearly twenty, and flatter myself that I've seen a little of the world."

"Admitted. Well?"

"Why, you see I'm correct with a 'K,'" continued Gus; and he added, "I'm up to the very best, double-extracted, eye-teething Scotch snuff, and I do my own sneezing. I smoke my 'Partagas,' drink nothing but the best of liquors, and I know a girl or two. Come, Mr. Sedate, I'll bet you I know more of 'life' than you do."

"Ah, but the life you refer to means death. Beware how you court it; for 'tis but a fickle coquette, all smiles to-day, ghastly perhaps upon the very morrow."

"Ah now, don't. You're always in the lecture field whenever I mention anything about 'fun,' and all that sort of thing. Why you pile up the agony six stories high with a French roof, whenever I drop in across the way and take a drink," said Dobson.

"My young friend, I have no inclination to throw cold water upon the class of amusements which you so freely indulge in; but I do dislike, very much, to see a young man with such bright prospects as you have, rush blindly on to what must soon prove your destruction, if persisted in. 'Take a drink?' how commonplace it sounds; and yet what misery, what untold grief, and bitter unshed tears, may be hidden in the after-path of him who accepts the invitation. Many a fine fellow, with superior talents, great accomplishments, and friends eager to assist him up the ladder of fame; many such, have I seen go down wretchedly to their graves, unknown to that world in which they might have stood bright ornaments; forgotten by all, wept for by none; and this was the effects of strong drink, moderately indulged in at first; its effects not visible then, but slowly, surely the demon creeps in, destroys mind and body, and only leaves the wreck it has made, when the last timber has floated upon the dark river that leads only to the mighty ocean of despair and death.

"That's an awful way of putting it, Tom. I guess I'll 'let up' on heavy drinks and take to 'beer, beer, goat lager beer,'"sang Gus, "and ring in only once a day on that--say about lunch time," he added.

"Well, well, we will talk no more on that subject," said Tom.

"Yes, but I'm serious, I'm going to reform. It shall never be said of Gus Dobson, Esq., that he knocked down any ornaments; or went down to his grave without knowing any one, forgotten by all, and unswept by none; a perfect canal-boat wreck, whose last timber floats upon the dark ocean's stream, in company with much despair and more death."

"You've got that slightly mixed, but never mind, I hope you mean well."

"I do, in peace; and I'm going to be a professional man right away. A lawyer; that's the ticket for me to snatch. I'll leave old Dallas this day."

"Don't be hasty, Gus," said Tom.

"Correct, with a 'K'; I don't intend to be hasty, but I'm going to study law at once with old Buncome, a rich, rare, and racy attorney, and an old friend of the 'Governor's.' 'Bunky' wanted me to go into his office about a year ago; but I wanted to get into a store, so that I could 'mash' the girls. I'm over that now. I'm on a bee line to wealth and affluence, so good-bye, 'old fel;' give my love to Miss Minnie Dallas, and tell the boss I've discharged him."

"Shall we see you now and then?"

"Correct, with a 'K,' you certainly will; and when you want any legal advice, call upon Augustus Dobson, Esq., Attorney-at-Law, No.----, don't know the street yet."

"So you're off?"

"Correct, with a 'K;' I am, you bet,--'so long,' Tom, I'll not forget you in my prayers, and I'll paste you in my dreams," and he thus suddenly quitted the store, and his occupation, for with him everything conceived was acted upon the impulse of the moment.

"That's a strange fellow," mused Tom; "but he's by no means a bad one. Ah, good morning, Miss Dallas," for at this moment that young lady entered.

"Good morning, Mr. Bird. Quite well, I hope?"

"Oh yes, I am; that is, I--I might say that--" and he came to a full stop, leaving his uncouth sentence unfinished. Thus it ever was when these two met. She was quite at ease in his presence, only apparently though, for the fair sex are skilled, generally, in hiding the emotions of the heart beneath a cheerful, careless expression. Alas, poor Tom, he could not conceal the fact that he was deeply, desperately in love with Minnie. There had been no declaration of that kind however made by him, and he knew not if he might hope that, at no distant day, she would be his to love, honor and protect.

A few remarks on her part, and many blushes, and much conversational stumbling on his, ended the interview. As soon as she was gone he remembered what he intended to say, but could not; and even his good temper was somewhat ruffled. While in his humor, we will leave him, for a time, and introduce to the reader's notice Mr. John G. Dallas. He was a man of commanding mien, a high forehead, and the rays of uncommon intellectuality illumed a face in which was centered a look of mildness, and yet great firmness of character; a man who would stop at nothing when he knew or fancied himself to be on the right side. Such in brief was the father of Minnie. To say that he loved his daughter does not convey an adequate meaning; he idolized her, and being an only child, it is reasonable to be supposed that she was just a little spoiled; in other words, her slightest wish was law--that must be immediately enforced if you would please her father. But although these influences worked a somewhat injurious effect upon Miss Dallas, they failed entirely to change or stop a single natural beating of her warm, pure heart, which went out in great, deep love for the poor and afflicted around her.

The advantages of a most excellent education had been hers, and she had early made judicious use of them. Besides the accomplishments, and to-be-taken-for-granted education of a young lady in her position, she had gained a good practical knowledge of the French, Spanish, and German languages, the two former of which she spoke quite fluently. Almost as we have described him, Mr. Dallas hurriedly entered the store.

"Mr. Bird," said he, "I wish you would go in search of Mr. Gonzales. I have just discovered that a trick has been played upon me; the diamonds in the pin which we, last week, sold to the Spanish gentleman were nothing but an ingenious imitation, which deceived even my practised eyes. We must give him the genuine ones in place of those he now possesses. Unless I can obtain redress from the clever French scoundrels from whom I made my purchase, I shall be a heavy loser, but that is no reason why I should allow Mr. Gonzales to remain deceived, now that I have made the discovery. Please go at once to the Metropolitan--I think you will find him there--and request his immediate presence here, if possible."

Tom was off at once.

"That's a fine, honest and ever ready fellow," said Mr. Dallas, speaking to himself. "Such men are not plenty in New York, or elsewhere, I fear, and I fully appreciate my acquisition. Since he has been in my employ I have watched him closely when he little thought I was near, but never once did I detect an action to condemn him. The one night in the week which is his he 'fills in' very rationally indeed. If he were at all dissolute in his habits, or not over choice in his companion, I should discharge him at once. By the Lord Harry, it wouldn't do to allow a dissipated fellow to sleep in my store at night, let him be ever so honest; for either through his carelessness would I be the loser, or the temptation to obtain ample means to lead a reckless life, would prove irresistible, and he would fall, despite his honesty."

In this manner did the jeweller commune with himself, until the return of Tom, who soon entered, accompanied by Gonzales. Explanations were entered into, and everything satisfactorily arranged, after which Mr. Dallas left the store, on business, requiring his presence, as he said, up town. Tom and Carlos conversed together for some time, when the former suddenly remembered that he had promised to send home to a lady a breast-pin, left at the store to be mended. The young man who had that day "discharged the boss"--Gus. Dobson we refer to--was not to be thought of, to do the little errand, as by this time he was doubtless poring, with a relentless working of brain and eyes, over the intricacies of Blackstone or some other authority on law. In this predicament Tom concluded that he would first call Miss Dallas to attend the store, and himself carry the piece of jewelry to its owner, which he did. Bird and Gonzales left the store at the same time, and the latter inquired as to which direction the former would take, and upon learning it, suddenly discovered, or pretended to discover, that it was his, also. After Tom had found the house he was seeking, and had transacted his business, he was surprised to find that his companion in the walk was awaiting him. They soon reached Broadway, and presently Gonzales stopped before a cigar and sample room, at the same time extending an invitation to "take something." Upon learning that Tom had recently formed a resolution not to "take something," he said:

"Let it be a cigar, then. Come!" As he spoke he entered, followed by Tom, who failed to consider the consequence of this simple act, which was the turning point of his life, the cause of much after misery and suffering. Ah, Tom, could you have but looked into the cruel future, have seen the danger now everywhere besetting your path, you would have hesitated, and turned your back upon this precursory step of much sorrow. But he did not--how could he?--see the plot laid for his destruction, nor realize the dreadful fate in store for him, hidden by its very self, and smoothly prepared for him by the oily tongue and influence of his evil genius--Carlos Gonzales. Events of a startling nature, and which will require all thy courage to battle, friend Tom, now crowd thick and fast about thee.

IT {the "I" is ornamental text} was not long before the couple made their exit from the sample room; and when they reached the street they separated. Tom leisurely walked homeward; and upon his arrival was a little surprised to find Mr. Dallas returned, and the sole occupant of the store. A troubled look sat upon his employer's countenance, for which Tom could not account, as it was rarely that Mr. Dallas looked in this manner.

"Mr. Bird," commenced he, "I shall not require your services longer."

"I am indeed sorry," said Tom; and added, "for I have learned to look upon your house as my home; indeed, I have no other, and it will be painful to part with you and it."

"From this moment I wish no further conversation with you. You cannot--if you could, I'd not allow you--plead innocent of the knowledge that you have, this day, entered one of the vilest man-traps of this great metropolis--a gambling hell!"

Sir, I swear to you--"

"Enough!" interrupted Mr. Dallas. "You must not attempt to deny what I, myself, witnessed. I desire that you quit my store and employ at once!" He was greatly excited; the perspiration stood out in large drops upon his forehead; and his face was each moment growing redder, caused by his suppressed anger and emotion.

Tom, wild with grief, at this sudden and unlooked for accusation, almost ran from the store. That he had been denied a hearing, and that his employer should believe for one moment that he was a gambler, worked him into such a frenzy that he knew not where he was going. Not until Mr. Dallas had informed him as to the nature of the establishment he had entered in company with Gonzales, did he realize that it was a resort for black-legs. On, on, he rushed, heedless of all around; the demon of despair tugging at his heartstrings. People looked at him and wondered; and some remarked aloud, upon his strange conduct, but he neither heard nor saw them.

"My God, man! what is the matter with you?"

This was the first sound he heard, and looking round, he saw Carlos Gonzales approaching.

"Oh, why, why did you invite me into that cursed place?" asked Tom, in a very agonizing tone of voice.

"This is strange language; what mean you?"

"Great heaven! can you ask? Did you not lead me into a gambling house, which my employer saw me enter?"

"You talk wildly. If you refer to the saloon which we entered this afternoon, I can only say I was not aware that it was a place of that description. Come, man, drink some brandy. You will work yourself into a fever. Endeavor to calm yourself, I pray you," said this villain; and as he spoke he led Tom into a restaurant.

"Talk not to me of calmness. Do you know what I have lost? An employer's confidence destroyed, my life's early page blotted, and the respect of one whom I love better than life, lost to me forever. Yes, I'll drink, drink to the very dregs of this burning fluid, as I am now drinking in wretchedness. I care not what becomes of me; for I feel as if all the world were against me, and I against the world."

In this wild manner he talked on, and drank until his system refused its unusual work. He was rapidly becoming hopelessly intoxicated, when at length he paused in his madness, and said:

"I must go to him, and explain all. He shall, he must listen to me, for I will force him to--" As he uttered these words he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and a bunch of keys fell upon the floor.

"Carlos Gonzales, those are the keys to Mr. Dallas' store; at least I must return them, and at once," cried he, excitedly.

"No, no, not now. Wait until you are calmer. You would certainly not wish to have Mr. Dallas see you while you are so excited; 'twould stamp you as a guilty man, in his eyes," said Carlos; and using persuasion of this kind, he picked up the keys, returned them to Tom, and finally prevailed upon him to drink again, and again, and then they quitted the saloon.

As they left the restaurant, a pale, anxious face, beautiful even in its distress, might have been seen just opposite--'twas that of Minnie Dallas. She had overheard the short conversation between Tom and her father; had heard the young man leave in great haste, and her whole soul in sympathy went out toward him. She could not believe him to be a gambler--a woman's intuition taught her that such could not be the case. 'Tis useless {illustration} Tom Bird, the Clerk, seizes Gonzales, the Spaniard, in the Act of robbing the Safe. The fearful Struggle. Die scharifinnige Eduschung. Der Spanier überwonden. "Des, is had neicht Tom Bird," sagte der Polizei. to further conceal the truth--she loved him. He knew it not, and she was but just awakening to the fact. The love of such a woman as our Minnie, is not idly bestowed; and he is indeed a lucky man who can secure such an affection--all warm, pure, trusting as it is, and surrounded by an impregnable wall of faith. The villain and his victim went arm in arm down the street, the latter speaking incoherently and leaning heavily upon the former. Minnie, from across the way, watched and followed. All sense of his surroundings was fast leaving Tom, and he was now an easy prey. Block after block did they traverse, now turning this corner, now that, until at least they reached a disreputable and dangerous portion of Green street. Into one of the houses in this neighborhood Gonzales entered, almost dragging his victim after him. Where is Minnie now? See! just in the shadow of the house opposite she stands! Brave girl, thou wilt not desert thy lover.

Over the door, painted upon red or stained glass, the observer beholds the word "Bulter's"--nothing else to indicate who, or what may be Bulter's occupation. The "sharp" ones, however, well know the nature of Budge Bulter's establishment; but as the doings of the proprietor and his regular visitors are varied, and to name which would not be pleasant to "ears polite," we shall not mention them.

It is not agreeable to our feelings to describe the motley crew assembled at Bulter's; nor do we intend to do so, as they have but very little bearing upon the plot of this narrative. Suffice it to say, that the first man whom the last arrivals met, upon entering, was Dan Rhoady--he of the beautiful "mug." This fellow, assisted by his more elegant accomplice in crime, conducted Tom to a room on the second floor, where he had not been long ere he became prostrated and stupefied. The villains now secured his keys, and left the house, leaving orders at the bar to detain him until the following morning. By this time the shades of night had fallen, and lamp-lights were visible here and there.

Minnie had seen Gonzales and Tom enter the man-trap, and afterwards she saw the former leave it, without the latter, but accompanied by Dan Rhoady. Her woman's wit was sorely puzzled at this, and she in vain endeavored to account for the strange proceedings. She still believed Tom innocent of all evil intentions, and rather looked upon him as the victim of a bold, bad man--for such, she was now confident, was the character of Gonzales. How foil the villains in their scheme, and what was the nature of that scheme, she failed to decide. Thus perplexed, she turned homeward; and arriving there, communicated her discovery to her father, declaring her belief in Tom's innocence. This had but the effect of more strongly convincing Mr. Dallas that he was on the right side, and had done well in ridding himself of the young man's services. A stormy scene ensued between father and daughter; and Minnie, early in the evening, retired to her room, weeping bitterly.

"Well, well," said Mr. Dallas; "was ever man so vexed. Here have I lost a young man, in whom I placed every confidence; and to add to my trouble, I quarrel with my daughter, and make the startling discovery that she loves my discharged employee. In the morning," continued he, "I must find some one to fill his place. To-night I shall have to sleep in the store myself."

Strange as it may appear, he never once thought of the fact that Tom had a duplicate set of keys to the store, and that he had failed to return them when leaving.

The night was an unusually dark one, and rain was now falling. Four times had the hour hand of the large clock, which stood in the store, gone round since tea time; and Mr. Dallas closed for the night, first calling to Minnie, but receiving no answer.

"Poor girl," he said; "she has doubtless cried herself asleep. Well, well; perhaps I was a little severe with her. In the morning she will have forgotten all, and we shall see her face wreathed in sunny smiles. 'Tis ever thus with the young; troubles which appear to them as great ones, at first, are soon forgotten."

The lounge on which Tom had slept was now occupied by his late employer, who soon fell asleep.

"Tic toc," "tic toc," went the clock; "patter," "patter," fell the rain; and the wind rushed past the house in sweeping gusts, now returning and moaning, and then howling dismally. Windows rattled, and signs swung back and forward with their horrible "creak," "creak." Once more has the hour hand completed its circle, and now the rain falls in torrents; a very deluge, and the elements seem conspiring against the world below, threatening destruction at each moment. Peacefully sleeps the old man; no noise disturbs him, for he is a heavy sleeper.

Time flies fast, and ere we are aware of it, the bells ring out the hour of twelve. As the clock strikes, a policeman passing on his beat, tries the door, and this awakes Mr. Dallas, who cries, "All right, Charlie."

"All right? Whose there?"

"It's I," answers Mr. Dallas.

"Oh, all right; but where's Tom Bird? This isn't his night off?"

"Yes it is; for I've discharged him," laconically replies Mr. Dallas.

"Awful night!" shouts the officer, above the storm; and then moves on, trying each door as he goes.

"I don't envy that fellow's position much," said the old gent; and soon after he was in a sound sleep, one which proved his last.

"Take care," "look here," "take care," "look here," the clock seems to say; and its face speaks of the flying minutes.

The ticking of the clock, and heavy breathing of the sleeper, can be distinctly heard. The rain and wind still tell their tale of a fearful night without. But listen! That sounds like a key inserted in a lock. No, 'tis but fancy. Again that sound. Yes, there can be no mistaking it now. Softly, cautiously, some one turns a key in the store-door lock, from the {illustration} The ingenious Trick. The Spaniard foiled. "Why, that's not Tom Bird," said the Policeman. Die scharifinnige Eduschung. Der Spanier überwonden. "Des, is had neicht Tom Bird," sagte der Polizei. and then arrest him." And with this speech, which was not heard by the others, he hurriedly made his exit. His last words were spoken in plain English.

"I was, undoubtedly, correct in my surmises," whispered Tom to his friend, taking him aside. "And must make immediate preparation to elude the vigilance of that man." Tom called Hackle, and together they entered a door leading to another part of the house. Once out of sight of the party in the bar-room, Tom rapidly communicated to Toney a plan which he had just conceived. Everything was arranged, and the card-players again beheld Tom enter and seat himself at the same table. Presently the German appears, accompanied by two policemen. Going up to Dobson, he remarked: "Yaw, dot vas a werry nice leedle game, dot 'bluff;' but, gentlemen" (this he spoke in good English), "the game is now played. No use, my young clerk" (he now addressed Tom); "you are our prisoner! You know me!"

As he uttered these words he walkedd toward Tom, and removing the huge whiskers, back of which the face of the supposed German had been concealed, Gonzales, the Spaniard, stood before him.

"Carlos Gonzales!" cried Gus.

"The same!" he replied; and added, "My friends, you are perhaps not aware of the select companion we have here. This is the murderer of Mr. John Dallas, the jeweller. Behold!" The Spaniard suddenly jerked off the wig and whiskers, which had disguised Tom, and shouted:

"Tom Bird, the assassin, stands before you!" And he looked around in triumph upon the assembled men, but never glanced at the one from whom he had removed the disguise.

"Why, that's not Tom Bird," said Charlie, the policeman.

Startled at this assertion, Gonzales turned, and with a look of surprise discovered that the man from whom he had torn the wig and beard was not Tom, but a perfect stranger to him.

"I have been tricked!" he muttered; and added, "What game is this?"

"Why, this,"--replied our friend Gus, imitating the assumed dialect of Carlos--"This is dot leedle game of bluff, and that" (pointing at the man recently disguised to represent Tom) "is a heavy 'blind' which you can't 'see,' as we hold a 'straight flush.'"

"Damnation!" hissed Gonzales.

Gus jumped upon the table and shouted, "Correct with a 'K,'" and breaking into a dance, he asked, "How are you, half-Spanish?"

Carlos left the place in great anger, and with a look of baffled revenge. The officers searched the house, but could find nothing of Tom.

He had made good his time, and placed a good distance between himself and pursuers.