<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN>
<h1 id="booktitle">FRITZ TO THE FRONT</h1>
<h2>OR,<br/>
THE VENTRILOQUIST SCAMP-HUNTER.<br/>
BY<br/>
EDWARD L. WHEELER,</h2>
<hr class="chapter">
<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></SPAN>CHAPTER I</h2>
<p class="h3">MADGE.</p>
<p>One bright, hot August morning a cheap excursion was advertised to
leave South Street wharf, Philadelphia, for Atlantic City—that lively
little city by the sea, which is so fast growing in size and
popularity as to rival the more noted of the Atlantic coast summer
resorts. A cheap excursion which is within the means of the working
class is ever a success, and this one was no exception; it gave the
masses a chance to escape from the overheated city for a small sum,
and they grasped at it eagerly.</p>
<p>Bright and early the ferry-boat was crowded and still there was no
cessation of the stream of humanity that surged toward the river
front. There were representatives of every trade in the city, nearly,
and likewise a mixture of several nationalities; there were young
folks and old folks and little children; then there were<span class="pagenum">[6]</span> roughs,
bruisers, and bummers, an indispensable adjunct to summer excursions;
and, all in all, a heterogeneous collection of humanity.</p>
<p>Just as the hot August sun peeped up over Jersey's sandy horizon, the
bell of the boat rung, and the huge ferry-boat began to move out
across the Delaware, toward Kaighn's Point, where connection was to be
made with the railway.</p>
<p>It was a noisy crowd aboard the boat, there being a good many roughs
among the pleasure-seekers, who were more or less under the effect of
Dock Street "soothing syrup," and who were disposed to have something
to say to every one.</p>
<p>Among the passengers was a young lady of eighteen or nineteen years of
age, who sat in the stern of the boat, seeming to have no friends or
acquaintances.</p>
<p>She was by no means unprepossessing in face, and was trimly built, and
dressed rather stylishly, compared to the others of her sex aboard the
boat.</p>
<p>It was not long before several of the roughs noted the fact that she
was unaccompanied, and determined to know the reason why.</p>
<p>Therefore, one lubberly, raw-boned young<span class="pagenum">[7]</span> bruiser, with a freckled
face, blood-shot eyes, and a large, red nose, approached her and
tipped his hat with tipsy gallantry:</p>
<p>"'Scuse me, young lady, but (hic) may I ask ef yer got (hic) company?"
he asked.</p>
<p>"Plenty of it, sir," the young lady replied, her eyes flashing. "I do
not know you; you'd confer a favor by not addressing me."</p>
<p>"I'll do as I please, my gal; don't ye sass yer cuzzin. Don't ye know
me? I'm a 'full moon' solid Mulligan Muldoon, I am."</p>
<p>Greatly annoyed, the young woman turned her head away without
answering.</p>
<p>This, however, did not abash the "full moon," for he advanced closer,
and laid one burly hand upon the railing beside her.</p>
<p>"Now, (hic) see here, my beloved Miss Moriarty," he began, but before
he could proceed further, a foppishly attired young Jew, with red hair
and a hooked nose, stepped forward and slapped the Fourth Ward man on
the shoulder.</p>
<p>"Yoost you bounce oud, mine friend," he said. "Der young lady don'd
vas vant some off your attention."</p>
<p>"Hello! who in blazes are you?" Muldoon demanded, gruffly, not
offering to move. "I<span class="pagenum">[8]</span> are Muldoon, ther solid man, I am, an' I allow I
kin lick any man on (hic) ther boat."</p>
<p>"That don'd make any difference. Dot young lady don'd vant you near
her, und uff you don'd vas gone away, right off quick, I'll throw you
oud—dot's der style off an excursionist I am!" cried the Jew.</p>
<p>"Oho! you wull, wull you? You'll throw me out, hey?—me Full-moon
Muldoon, ther solid man? I'll hev a kiss from the girl an' then I'll
heave yer Israelite carcass overboard for the fishes."</p>
<p>And, making a drunken lunge forward, he threw his arms about the young
lady's neck, amid indignant cries of a crowd of bystanders, and
attempted to kiss her.</p>
<p>But he failed in his purpose, for she pluckily threw him off, and the
next instant the Jewish-looking young man came to her rescue.</p>
<p>Seizing the rough by the coat and trousers he jerked him away; then
with the strength of a Hercules, raised him from the floor and hurled
him forward down the cabin stairway to the lower deck.</p>
<p>A cheer of approval at once went up from the larger share of the
spectators, and the Dutchman became the hero of the hour.<span class="pagenum">[9]</span></p>
<p>Some of Muldoon's companions rushed to his rescue and found him
doubled up like a jack-knife, and groaning over severe bumps.</p>
<p>His rough usage, however, had evidently cowed him, for he made no
attempt to show fight or create further disturbance.</p>
<p>The young lady thanked the Jew, but that was all, until the boat
grated up alongside Kaighn's Point wharf, when she caught his eye and
motioned for him to approach.</p>
<p>"If you will be so kind as to assist me in finding a seat in the
train," she said, modestly, "I would esteem it a great favor."</p>
<p>"Vel, you bet I vil! Id is a purdy rough crowd for a young lady
withoud some company. My name ish Fritz Snyder; vot ish yours?"</p>
<p>"You may call me Madge," was the quiet reply.</p>
<p>Then Fritz took her little traveling-bag, and they left the boat with
the crowd, and boarded the excursion-train which was close at hand.</p>
<p>Being among the first to reach it, they had no difficulty in finding a
seat, and made haste to occupy it, as the cars were fast filling.</p>
<p>"I reckon ash how you vas goin' to der sea-shore?" Fritz asked, having
some curiosity to know.<span class="pagenum">[10]</span></p>
<p>"I presume so, if the cars take me there," the young lady replied,
with a faint smile. "Is it a nice place?"</p>
<p>"Vel, I don'd know. I vas neffer there, but I hear id vas a nice
place. You see, I vas goin' there on pizness—I—I—don'd know off I
stay long or not."</p>
<p>Little more was said during the overland trip to the ocean.</p>
<p>The young woman did not appear inclined to talk, and Fritz finally
excused himself, and moved to another seat.</p>
<p>"Der ish somedings vot don'd vas right apoud dot vimmens," he
soliloquized. "She ish not goin' to der sea-shore for vone object
alone, I'll bet a half-dollar."</p>
<p>Just ahead of him, in the next seat, sat two old ladies, who were
discussing that topic uppermost in their minds—spiritualism. One was
a believer—the other an unbeliever.</p>
<p>"Pooh! you can't stuff such nonsense into my head, Marier," the
unbeliever declared, taking a pinch of snuff. "Speerits don't trouble
me."</p>
<p>"But, that is because you have no faith, Mehitable. Now, my Sammy's
speerit converses with me, every day and night, and keeps<span class="pagenum">[11]</span> me posted
about the realms of eternal bliss, and when I ax him to appear, he
comes before me as natural as life."</p>
<p>"Has he got that wart behind his left ear yet?" apparently asked a man
in front of the ladies, though Ventriloquist Fritz was of course the
author of the question.</p>
<p>"Sir-r-rh!" the spiritualist cried, indignantly, "I'll have you know
my Samuel had no wart upon his person!"</p>
<p>"But he had bunions, though!" a portly old gent across the aisle
seemed to declare.</p>
<p>"It's a lie—a shameful lie! I'd like to know how you dare cast your
insinuations about one you never knew, sir?" and Mrs. Marier arose in
her seat, excitedly. "My husband was a good moral gentleman."</p>
<p>"For the land's sake, Marier, do set down," the other woman cried,
feeling embarrassed.</p>
<p>"No I won't set down!" Marier declared. "That old bald-headed, pussy
fabricator said my Sammy had bunions!"</p>
<p>"My good woman, I never said anything of the kind," the portly party
declared, getting red in the face.</p>
<p>"The old woman's crazy!" another man seemed to cry.<span class="pagenum">[12]</span></p>
<p>"Crazy, am I?" Mrs. Marier cried, snatching up a freshly baked pumpkin
pie from the seat beside her, and holding it ready to hurl at the
offenders. "I'll show you if I'm crazy. Jest ye open yer mouths, ary
one of ye, an' I'll show ye how crazy I am! Oh! I'll learn ye to
insult a respectable woman, who minds her own business!"</p>
<p>And the woman came off victor, for Fritz ventriloquized no further,
and the passengers had nothing to say, having no desire to get
plastered up with freshly prepared pumpkin pie.</p>
<p>In the course of three hours the train arrived at Atlantic City, and
before the ocean's blue expanse, as it billowed away to meet the
horizon.</p>
<p>The grand stretch of level beach was thronged with people, despite the
pouring heat of the midday sun, and many queerly costumed
pleasure-seekers were buffeting about in the water for recreation and
health.</p>
<p>Fritz was among the first to leave the cars, and he stationed himself
where he could watch the movements of the girl, Madge.</p>
<p>Some subtle instinct prompted him to do this, with the impression that
she was—what?<span class="pagenum">[13]</span></p>
<p>That was an enigma. He could not, for the life of him, have told why,
but he was impressed with an idea that there was some strange romance
connected with her visit to the sea-shore—that she did not come alone
for pleasure, but for an object that might be worth investigating.</p>
<p>She left the cars, and at once took a carriage for the principal
hotel.</p>
<p>Not to be balked, Fritz jumped into another carriage, and directed the
driver to take him to the same hotel.</p>
<p>His conveyance arrived first, and he was standing on the veranda, when
the carriage drove up with Madge, and she got out.</p>
<p>She scarcely noticed him as she came up the steps and passed into the
hotel; but, after she had registered, she came out, and touched him on
the arm.</p>
<p>"You are watching me—what for?" she asked, when he turned around
facing her. "Am I an object of suspicion to you, sir?"</p>
<p>Fritz flushed uncomfortably, and hardly knew how to answer.</p>
<p>"Vel, I—I—"</p>
<p>"There! don't make any apologies or excuses; I know you are, and shall
look out for you. Please understand I am no criminal!"<span class="pagenum">[14]</span></p>
<p>Then she turned around again, and swept haughtily into the hotel,
while Fritz walked away toward the beach in meditation.</p>
<p>"She vas sharper ash lightning," he mused, "und dot makes me t'ink
some more dot for some reason or odder she vil bear watching."</p>
<p>He took a bath in the ocean, and then went back to the hotel. He was
not quite satisfied to drop the matter where it was. Something urged
him to pry further into the affairs of this young lady, whose case had
struck him as being singular.</p>
<p>On examining the register, he found that she was registered as Miss
Madge Thurston, and assigned room 43.</p>
<p>As nothing more offered, he sat down on the veranda, and watched the
stream of people that surged in and out of the hotel, and to and from
the beach—men, women, and children by the hundred, and yet there
were scarcely two faces alike.</p>
<p>During the afternoon an elegant close carriage, drawn by a superbly
harnessed pair of high-stepping bays, which were in turn driven by a
liveried negro, came dashing down the avenue, and drew up before the
Brighton.</p>
<p>A man of some thirty-five years of age leaped<span class="pagenum">[15]</span> from the carriage, and
entered the hotel—a man with a sinister yet handsome face, ornamented
with a sweeping mustache, and a pair of sharp, black eyes. He was
attired in spotless white duck, with patent-leather boots, and a white
"plug" hat, and was evidently a person of some importance!</p>
<p>He soon came out of the hotel, accompanied by the young woman Fritz
had defended, and entering the carriage, they were whirled away down
the avenue out of sight.</p>
<p>"Dot settles dot! My game's gone und I don'd got some professional
detective gase, there," Fritz growled, as he watched the receding
carriage. "I'll bet a half-dollar I neffer see dem again."</p>
<p>But he was mistaken.</p>
<p>That evening when the moon was sending a flood of brilliant light down
upon the long level beach, he was one of a thousand who took a stroll
along the water's edge, over the damp sands of the sea.</p>
<p>He was thus engaged, and watching the great luminous moon which seemed
to have risen out of the distant watery waste, when a man touched him
upon the shoulder.</p>
<p>"Excuse me," he said, respectfully, "but are<span class="pagenum">[16]</span> you Fritz, the young man
who took a young lady's part, on a ferry-boat near Philadelphia,
to-day?"</p>
<p>"Vel, I dink I am, uff I recomember right. Vot of it?" Fritz replied.</p>
<p>"Well, sir, you are wanted to bear witness to a marriage ceremony,
to-night, up the coast, and I was sent for you. Step this way, to the
carriage, sir."</p>
<p>Scarcely knowing what was best to do, Fritz followed, got into an open
carriage, and was driven rapidly north along the beach, through the
romantic moonshine.</p>
<p>But, how romantic was his little adventure destined to turn out? That
was what he asked himself, as he gazed doubtfully out upon the
greenish blue of mother ocean.<span class="pagenum">[17]</span></p>
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