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Transcriber’s note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=).
“Noname’s” Latest and Best Stories are Published in This Library.
[Illustration: FRANK READE LIBRARY]
═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════
_Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., as Second Class
Matter._
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=No. 1.= {=COMPLETE.=} FRANK TOUSEY, {=PRICE=} =Vol. I=
PUBLISHED, 34 & 36 {=5 CENTS.=}
NORTH MOORE STREET, NEW
YORK.
New York, ISSUED
September WEEKLY.
24, 1892.
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_Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1892, by FRANK
TOUSEY, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington,
D. C._
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FRANK READE, JR., AND HIS NEW STEAM MAN;
OR, THE
YOUNG INVENTOR’S TRIP TO THE FAR WEST.
By “NONAME.”
[Illustration]
The Subscription Price of the FRANK READE LIBRARY by the Year is $2.50:
$1.25 per six months, post-paid. Address FRANK TOUSEY, PUBLISHER, 34 and
36 North Moore Street, New York. Box 2730.
Frank Reade Jr., and His New Steam Man;
OR,
THE YOUNG INVENTOR’S TRIP TO THE FAR WEST.
By “NONAME”,
Author of Frank Reade Jr.’s Electric Cyclone; or, Thrilling Adventures
in No Man’s Land, etc.
CHAPTER I.
A GREAT WRONG.
Frank Reade was noted the world over as a wonderful and distinguished
inventor of marvelous machines in the line of steam and electricity. But
he had grown old and unable to knock about the world, as he had been
wont once to do.
So it happened that his son, Frank Reade, Jr., a handsome and talented
young man, succeeded his father as a great inventor, even excelling him
in variety and complexity of invention. The son speedily outstripped his
sire.
The great machine shops in Readestown were enlarged by young Frank, and
new flying machines, electric wonders, and so forth, were brought into
being.
But the elder Frank would maintain that, inasmuch as electricity at the
time was an undeveloped factor, his invention of the Steam Man was
really the most wonderful of all.
“It cannot be improved upon,” he declared, positively. “Not if steam is
used as a motive power.”
Frank, Jr. laughed quietly, and patted his father on the back.
“Dad,” he said, with an affectionate, though bantering air, “what would
you think if I should produce a most remarkable improvement upon your
Steam Man?”
“You can’t do it!” declared the senior Reade.
Frank, Jr., said no more, but smiled in a significant manner. One day
later, the doors of the secret draughting-room of design were tightly
locked and young Frank came forth only to his meals.
For three months this matter of closed doors continued. In the machine
shop department, where the parts of machinery were secretly put
together, the ring of hammers might have been heard, and a big sign was
upon the door:
No admittance!
Thus matters were when one evening Frank left his arduous duties to
spend a few hours with his wife and little boy.
But just as he was passing out of the yard, a darky, short in stature
and of genial features, rushed excitedly up to him.
“Oh, Marse Frank,” cried the sable servitor, “Jes’ wait one moment!”
“Well, Pomp,” said Frank, pleasantly, “what can I do for you?”
The darky, who was a faithful servant of the Reades, and had accompanied
both on their tours in foreign lands, ducked his head, with a grin, and
replied:
“Yo’ father wants yo’, Marse Frank, jes’ as quick as eber yo’ kin come!”
“My father,” exclaimed Frank, quickly. “What is it?”
“I don’t know nuffin’ ‘bout it tall, Marse Frank. He jes’ say fo’ me to
tell yo’ he want fo’ to see yo’.”
“Where is he?”
“In his library, sah.”
“All right, Pomp. Tell him I will come at once.”
The darky darted away. Frank saw that the doors to the secret rooms were
locked. This was a wise precaution for hosts of cranks and demented
inventors were always hovering about the place and would quickly have
stolen the designs if they could have got at them.
Not ten minutes later Frank entered the library where his father was.
The elder Reade was pacing up and down in great excitement.
“Well, my son, you have come at last!” he cried. “I have much wanted to
see you.”
“I am at your service, father,” replied Frank. “What is it?”
“I want you to tell me what kind of a machine you have been getting up.”
“Come now, that’s not fair,” said Frank Jr. with twinkling eyes.
“Well, if it’s any kind of a machine that can travel over the prairies
tell me so,” cried the elder Reade, excitedly.
Frank, Jr., was at a loss to exactly understand what his father was
driving at. However, he replied:
“Well, I may safely say that it is. Now explain yourself.”
“I will,” replied the senior Reade. “I have a matter of great importance
to give you, Frank, my boy. If your invention is as good as my steam man
even, and does not improve upon it, it will yet perform the work which I
want it to do.”
A light broke across Frank, Jr.’s face.
“Ah!” he cried. “I see what you are driving at. You have an undertaking
for me and my new machine.”
Frank, Sr., looked steadily at Frank, Jr., and replied:
“You have hit the nail upon the head.”
“What is it?”
“First, I must tell you a story.”
“Well?”
“It would take me some time to go into the details, so I will not
attempt to do that but give you a simple statement of facts; in short,
the outline of the story.”
“All right. Let us have it.”
The senior Reade cleared his throat and continued:
“Many years ago when I was traveling in Australia I was set upon by
bushmen and would have been killed but for the sudden arrival upon the
scene of a countryman of mine, a man of about my own age and as plucky
as a lion.
“His name was Jim Travers, and I had known him in New York as the son of
a wealthy family. He was of a roving temperament, however, and this is
what had brought him to Australia.
“Well, Travers saved my life. He beat off my assailants, and nursing my
wounds brought me back to life.
“I have felt ever since that I owed him a debt which could not be fully
repaid. At that time I could make no return for the service.
“Jim and I drifted through the gold fields together. Then I lost track
of him, and until the other day I have not seen or heard from him.
“But I now find that it is in my power to give him assistance, in fact
to partly pay the debt I owe him. This brings us to the matter in hand.
“Six months ago it seems that Jim who is now a man of great wealth,
still a bachelor and for a few years past living at a fashionable hotel
in New York went to his club. When he returned in the evening he found a
note worded like this:”
Mr. Reade laid a note upon the table, Frank read it:
“DEAR TRAVERS:—I would like to see you to-night upon a very
important matter. Will you meet me in twenty minutes at the cafe
on your corner. I must see you, so be sure and come.
“A FRIEND.”
“Of course Jim wondered at the note, but he did not know of an enemy in
the world, so he felt perfectly safe in keeping the appointment. He
started for the cafe.
“The night was dark and misty, Jim walked along and had got near the
cafe when somebody stepped out of a dark hallway and grasped his arm.
“‘Come in here,’ a sharp voice said, ‘we can talk better here than in
the cafe.’
“Before Jim could make any resistance he was pulled into a dark hallway.
Two men had hold of him and something wet was dashed across his face and
over his hands, then he felt some liquid poured over his clothes and
some object thrust into his pocket.
“Then the door opened again and he was flung out into the street. Jim
was unharmed, but amazed at such treatment. He had not been hurt and was
at a loss to understand what it all meant.
“The incident had taken but a few moments in its course. At first a
thought of foul play had flashed across Jim. Then it occurred to him to
look at his hands which were wet with some substance.
“He gave a great cry of horror as he did so. There was blood upon them.
“In fact his hands and face and clothes were almost soaked in red blood.
For an instant he was horrified.
“What mystery was this? But he quickly changed his opinion and actually
laughed.
“It occurred to him as a practical joke upon the part of his club
friends. Satisfied of this he resolved to get even with them.
“He tried to open the door, through which he had been pulled. It was
locked and would not yield.
“Then he decided to go back to his room and wash off the blood. But he
had not gone ten steps before he was met in the glare of the lamplight
by one of the club men.
“‘Thunder! What’s the matter with you, Travers?’ asked his friend.
“‘Oh, nothing, only a little practical joke the boys have been playing
on me,’ replied Jim with a grin. Two or three others come along and Jim
explains in like manner. Then he goes to his apartments.
“When he arrives there he is amazed to find the door open and a fearful
scene within. The furniture, the light carpet and the walls in places
are smeared with blood. Jim now got angry.
“‘This is carrying a joke a little too far!’ he cried, testily. ‘This
spoiling the furniture is too much.’
“But he went to washing the blood from his hands. This was a hard job
and took time. Suddenly half a dozen officers came into the room and
seized him.
“‘What do you want?’ cried poor Jim in surprise.
“‘We want you,’ they replied.
“‘What for?’
“‘For murder!’
“Instead of being horrified, Jim was mad, madder than a March hare. He
just got up and swore at the officers.
‘I don’t like this sort of thing,’ he declared. ‘It’s carrying a joke
too far.’
“The officers only laughed and slipped manacles upon his wrists. Then
they led him away to prison. Not until brought into court did poor Jim
know that he had been made the victim of a hellish scheme.
“Murder had really been committed in that house into which he had been
dragged, and where he was smeared with blood. A man unknown, was there
found literally carved to pieces with a knife.
“Blood had been found upon Jim in his room. A trail led from the house
to his room. A knife was found in his coat pocket. The evidence was all
against him and his trial had just come off and he had just been
sentenced to death by hanging with only three months of grace.”
Frank Reade, Jr., listened to this thrilling tale with sensations which
the pen cannot depict. It was so horrible, so strange, so ghastly that
he could hardly believe it true.
He arose and walked once across the floor.