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Harry Blount, the Detective; Or, The Martin Mystery Solved

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by T. J. Flanagan




  Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  PRICE, 25 CENTS. =No. 61.=

  THE SUNSET SERIES.

  By Subscription, per Year, Nine Dollars.

  August 16, 1893.

  Entered at the New York Post-Office as second-class matter.

  Copyright by J. S. OGILVIE.

  HARRY BLOUNT, The Detective.

  BY T. J. Flanagan.

  NEW YORK:J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,57 ROSE STREET.

  * * * * *

  Harry Blount, the Detective;

  OR, THE MARTIN MYSTERY SOLVED.

  BY T. J. FLANAGAN.

  COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY J. S. OGILVIE.

  NEW YORK:J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,57 ROSE STREET.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I 3 CHAPTER II 8 CHAPTER III 14 CHAPTER IV 19 CHAPTER V 23 CHAPTER VI 33 CHAPTER VII 39 CHAPTER VIII 48 CHAPTER IX 55 CHAPTER X 64 CHAPTER XI 68 CHAPTER XII 74 CHAPTER XIII 82 CHAPTER XIV 89 CHAPTER XV 96 CHAPTER XVI 101 CHAPTER XVII 108 CHAPTER XVIII 115 CHAPTER XIX 121 CHAPTER XX 133 CHAPTER XXI 140 CHAPTER XXII 146 CHAPTER XXIII 152 CHAPTER XXIV 161 CHAPTER XXV 168 CHAPTER XXVI 172 CHAPTER XXVII 181

  HARRY BLOUNT, THE DETECTIVE;

  OR, THE MARTIN MYSTERY SOLVED.

  BY T. J. FLANAGAN.

  CHAPTER I.

  It was a beautiful May morning--the more especially in that part ofLancashire, immediately surrounding Hanley Hall, the magnificentresidence of Mr. St. George Stafford. Yet Mr. Stafford--though an ardentlover of nature, sat down to breakfast, on this particular morning, witha frown on his brow. He was expecting an important letter, and the mailhad been delayed--hence the frown.

  Just as the coffee was brought in, the mail arrived, and with thereceipt of the expected letter the frown vanished; to be replaced by anexpression of surprise, as Mr. Stafford noticed an envelope bearing anAmerican stamp, and curiosity led him to open this first.

  It was not a long letter, and when he had finished, he found his wifeand daughter, whose attention had been attracted, looking at himinquiringly.

  Addressing the latter, a pretty, dark-eyed girl of about nineteen, hesaid, with great gravity:

  "Well, Kate! You can prepare to receive your husband--to be--at almostany minute! This letter, mailed only two days prior to his departurefrom New York, informs me that he is coming to claim you."

  "Why, papa! What do you mean?"

  "Why, George! What do you mean?"

  The astonishment expressed in the tones, and depicted in the features,of his "women folks," as he called them, was too much for Mr. Stafford.He could no longer retain his gravity, and burst into a hearty laugh.

  Mrs. Stafford looked perplexed, Kate pouted, and as this only served toincrease Mr. Stafford's merriment, it was with difficulty he replied:

  "I mean exactly what I said: Kate's future husband may arrive at anytime to-day or to-morrow!"

  Mrs. Stafford looked still more perplexed and rather serious, while Katelooked exceedingly curious.

  "Come, George!" said Mrs. Stafford. "Don't tease poor Kate! Tell us whatthis means--I'm sure I cannot understand you!"

  "Well, my dear, I will relieve the terrible suspense. You, of course,remember my old partner Hall. Poor Dick is dead and gone, but a betterfriend or truer man never lived! But, no matter. When we decided to giveup business, and had wound up all our affairs, we--that is, you and Iand a little girl we called Kate--spent the night before we left NewYork for England at Dick's house. Well, Hall had a little boy, and heand this little girl of ours were great friends; and, as they playedabout the floor, Dick made some remark about it being a pity to partthem; that it was probably their last night together--something of thatsort. I, never dreaming he would take it seriously, said that we hadbetter betroth them, as was done with children in olden times; but Dickseemed taken with the idea, and--well, the upshot of the matter was,that you, Miss Kate, and that little boy, were engaged before we leftthe topic, and although your mother and Mrs. Hall sat only a few feetaway, they knew nothing about it. I looked upon it as a joke, but poorDick apparently took it in sober earnest; for next day, as he bade megood-bye, he put a ring in my hand--'For the little one,' he said, andshowed me the mate of it. He's dead many a year, poor fellow; but hisson is still living, and appears to be ready and willing to fulfill hispart of the contract."

  Mr. Stafford finished with a sly look at Kate, causing her to blushfuriously, although she laughed merrily.

  "What a ridiculous idea!" she exclaimed, while Mrs. Stafford, lookingvery serious, asked:

  "Is this really true, or are you still jesting? I can scarcely creditwhat you say."

  "Quite true--even to the ring Kate is now wearing!" and Mr. Staffordpointed to a pretty little amethyst on his daughter's finger.

  Mrs. Stafford no longer doubted the story. She looked troubled, andduring the remainder of the meal remained very quiet. Not so the fatherand daughter, who carried on a merry war--Kate declaring she was not atall curious, and certainly not anxious to see _him_, and scouting theidea of a ready-made husband, while Mr. Stafford kept teasing her onthese points. Yet, when she retired to her room immediately afterbreakfast, and looked at her reflection in the glass, she did "wonderwhat _he_ was like."

  It was a beautiful form, and a face not only beautiful, but essentially_good_, that she gazed upon, and any _he_ might be proud to have aclaim upon it; but she was accustomed to the features before her, andnot especially interested in any man. So wasting no time upon either,she set about that mysterious performance (to men) known as "changingher dress." This, at all events, must be a matter requiring time, for afull half-hour had elapsed when she appeared before her father in thelibrary, arrayed in full out-door costume, and with a saucy smileinvited his criticism, adding as she swung round before him:

  "You can now see how curious I am to behold him!"

 

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