Fritz to the Front, or, the Ventriloquist Scamp-Hunter. Wheeler Edward Lytton
with freshly prepared pumpkin pie.
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.
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.
Fritz was among the first to leave the cars, and he stationed himself where he could watch the movements of the girl, Madge.
Some subtle instinct prompted him to do this, with the impression that she was – what?
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.
She left the cars, and at once took a carriage for the principal hotel.
Not to be balked, Fritz jumped into another carriage, and directed the driver to take him to the same hotel.
His conveyance arrived first, and he was standing on the veranda, when the carriage drove up with Madge, and she got out.
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.
"You are watching me – what for?" she asked, when he turned around facing her. "Am I an object of suspicion to you, sir?"
Fritz flushed uncomfortably, and hardly knew how to answer.
"Vel, I – I – "
"There! don't make any apologies or excuses; I know you are, and shall look out for you. Please understand I am no criminal!"
Then she turned around again, and swept haughtily into the hotel, while Fritz walked away toward the beach in meditation.
"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."
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.
On examining the register, he found that she was registered as Miss Madge Thurston, and assigned room 43.
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.
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.
A man of some thirty-five years of age leaped 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!
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.
"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."
But he was mistaken.
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.
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.
"Excuse me," he said, respectfully, "but are you Fritz, the young man who took a young lady's part, on a ferry-boat near Philadelphia, to-day?"
"Vel, I dink I am, uff I recomember right. Vot of it?" Fritz replied.
"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."
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.
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.
CHAPTER II.
THE STRANGE MARRIAGE
In the course of little over an hour, the carriage stopped at the inlet, where Fritz was told to get out and take a small boat and row across the water to the other shore, where he would find another carriage to complete his journey in.
He accordingly did as directed, and had soon crossed the inlet, found the second carriage, and was once more rolling northward, along the sandy beach.
It seemed hours to him ere his conductor drew rein in front of a jutting bluff which interrupted their further progress along the beach, from the fact that it reached to the water's edge; for another hour he followed the driver, a grim, uncommunicative fisherman, on foot up a jagged path, which finally led into a lonely ocean cave which the high tides of many centuries had washed out to about the size of an ordinary room. A torch thrust in a crevice in the rocky wall, lit up the scene in rather a ghostly way.
About in the center of the cave stood three parties – Madge, a clerical-looking party, and another well-dressed man, with black hair and full beard.
He stepped forward as Fritz and the fisherman entered the cave, and said:
"Ah! I am glad you have come. Was fearing that you would not accommodate us, sir."
"Vel, I didn't vas know vedder to come or not," Fritz answered, "but ash I am here, vot you want off me?"
"I will tell you. The young lady yonder and myself are about to be married, and, to make things legal, we prefer to have a couple of witnesses to the ceremony. You will only be required to attach your signature to the marriage certificate, and will then be taken back to Atlantic City."
"Vel, off dot ish all, go ahead mit der pizness," Fritz said, perching himself on a rock. "I don'd know off id is a legal dransaction or not, but I'll do vot ish right by der lady."
"Then let's have the ceremony," the prospective bridegroom said. "Are you ready, Madge?"
"Quite ready," the young lady replied, smilingly.
Then they clasped hands, and the aged clerical-looking gentleman read a marriage-service, asked the usual questions, and pronounced them man and wife.
The parties to the consummation were announced as Miss Madge Thurston and Major Paul Atkins.
At the conclusion of the ceremony the clergyman filled out a certificate, signed it himself, and then requested Fritz to come forward and do likewise, and also the old fisherman.
His request being obeyed, Major Atkins said:
"Your favor is duly appreciated, Mr. Snyder, and, if an opportunity offers, I shall be happy to be of service to you. You may now return to town in the manner you came."
Accordingly, Fritz did so, not a little puzzled at his adventure and the strange wedding in the coast cave.
Day was just beginning to lighten the eastern horizon when he arrived back at Atlantic City, and went to his room for a nap.
But he found that sleep would not come to his relief, and so he was among the early fashionable bathers at the beach.
After a good, refreshing bath he went back to the Brighton and took a seat on the veranda.
He had not been seated long when a rapidly driven carriage whirled up before the hotel, and an elderly, portly man leaped out and hurried into the hotel, his face flushed