Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1006 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

he “™~ . _ . 7 — a Patel —_—T em See or ail Sen a . : : -~ i — o e ol A r L * "i 7 e) Ss ty R , ; . we RD me Be a ae Se ee | nih ‘ ne ’ ‘ i - a - i - — * <a ~ > ~~ re wae LK. : —_ tf }- eyes, Pec remainder of the _ current, whi are | ——— ——— oe “en, SE ee ee > ~~. [sews — | _ oe : ~<A _ * Flipper Frank’s Flush. ** A fine one for a tramp,” answered the con- ductor, wrathfully, as he gave a violent pull at the bell-rope. ‘“* Ab! going to take a tramp?” asked Frank, innocently. ‘*No; but you are,” The train slackened speed, and within a miza- ute or two came to a halt. ‘““ Now, Master Impudence, you'll get off,” ** Master who?” ** Impudence,” **T don’t know any chap of that name,” said Frank, turning to his paper. ‘*Come here!” called the conductor to the brakeman. ‘ Here’s a fellow trying to beat the road, We've got to fire bim.” **See here, Mr. Emperor!” remarked Frank; *ts’nose you just quit barking at the moon, and come down to terry firmy. Look at that, and lay a finger on meif you dare!” He beld his ticket under the conductor’s nose. That gentleman fell back a step, in surprise and chagrin, ‘* Why didn’t you show me that before?” he demanded, clutching desperately at the bell- rope. ‘ ‘ You never asked me for it,” **T did.” ‘* See here, gentlemen,” Frank appealed to the surrounding passengers. ‘‘ Did any of you hear him ask me?” ** No!” was the general answer. ‘*Now punch that ticket,” demanded Frank, sternly. ‘*‘ And don’t you tap me like you did t’other day, or Pll punch your head.” ** None of your impertinence, boy.” ** And none of your crowding. You're a good deal too previous. Why, I've got money enough to buy up your old road—if | wanted it, But I ain’t investing in no euch slow hosses,” ‘*HWrank turned again to his paper; and the conductor, swallowing his rage, resumed his rounds, after signaling the engineer to start up again. He recognized that he bad been too hasty, and that the boy had the best of the game. The young traveler had no more difficulty wlth his foe, who contented himself during the journey with growling de- ‘mands of ‘‘ Ticket,” to each of which Frank re- sponded with a seraphic smile, and a show of his pasteboard, In due time the train drew into the station at St. Louis, and the youthful detective once again trod the soil of Missouri. The day was now well advanced, and he was hungry enough for two of his size, having eaten only a sandwich on his journey. His first errand, then, was to a restaurant, where be obtained a plentiful meal... His next at the unwooded and monotonous banks, and ' tions, Frank was afraid to gay more, though he turned his attention to the boat on which he | believed in his secret soul that Converse was stood, The broad deck was thickly covered with | working upa Bs to victimize a number of rich merchandise in the greatest variety, while around him, enjoying the morning air, stood dozens of passengers, bound for various river ports. ; One of these soon attracted his special atten- subject, Western merchants. Palmer also had nothing further to say on the Yet his few words had taught much to the quick-witted boy. Louisville was the place, the end of March the time, and a plant tion. He stared at him a moment, and then | for making cheap aluminum the means, sprung cheerily forward. ‘* Hello, old man!” he cried. for your ten fingers,” He held out his hand. The man addressed turned, stared, and then clutched Frank’s hand. It was his railroad ac- quaintance! ‘*Glad to see you,” he exclaimed. ‘ Ain’t trying to beat the boat as you did the road, eh’ ‘**Not much!” Frank laughed. ‘Got the ducats now, By the way, here’s your little provender,” ‘‘Ob, never mind that,” said the Westerner, as Frank drew out a well-filled pocket-book. ‘‘' Yes, I wili! Short accounts make long friends, I came over the road again yesterday, old man, and you ought to have beenalong. | took every speck of starch out of that conductor, and left him just the limpest individual you ever seen, He told the story of his late encounter, at which Mr, Palmer, bis listener, almost doubled himself with laughter. ‘* How old are you?” he asked. ** Somewhere over eighteen.” ** By the Rocky Mountains, you’re an old trav- eler, if you area young man! I’m turned fifty- eight, and I couldn’t have done it.” he two sought the saloon deck and seated themselves for a comfortable talk. Meanwhile, the boat sped rapidly on its course, plunging through the mighty waters, and unfolding an endless panorama of farming and meadow-lands on either side, ‘* Do you know the Alabama?” asked Frank, “Yes, I just missed taking it.” “Why? We'll get to New Orleans first,” **Not much! The Alabama’s a faster boat than this!” “Then that hotel clerk lied, for he told me the St, Clair was the best boat on the river.” “Got stock in it, maybe,” answered Palmer, sig ng a cigar. ‘* Smoke?’ sé Oo ‘* Here’s room Frank fell into a momentary train of thought. Was he destined to be beaten after all? Had he better leave the boat at some river town, and take the train? But he had bought a through ticket; and he wanted to see the river. His moment’s re fisc- ‘was to the pawnbroker’s, where he redeemed his + tion ended in a resolve to stick to the boat and His third was to the post-office, where he found Dick W ister’s registered letter awaiting him, His fourth was to the hotel, where he looked carefully round him for Mr. Converse, No trace of that individual was to be seen however. Frank grew a little uneasy, Could he have left? On all ‘Behan evenings be had found him in the smoking-room, “Mr. Rowland Hill?” said the clerk, in re- sponse to Frank’s question. ‘‘ Left to-day.” “Left” “Yes. Six hoursago. Is on his way down the river. ‘Took steamer Alabama for New Orleans,” — : | **The thunder!” cried Frank, ‘‘ Left, as I’ma sinner!” ‘* Want to see him bad?” queried the clerk, “* Mighty bad.” | ‘‘Chase him, then. The St. Clair steams out at6o’clock, It isa faster boat than the Ala- bama. You'll touch wharf at New Orleans first, if you don’t overhaul him before, Or you can Zo by rail, if you prefer,”’ . A steamboat ride down the Mississippi!” cried Frank in enthusiasm, ‘* Don’t say rail to me! I wouldu’t miss it for ten railroads. Good- by! Much obliged.” It was now four o’clock. Before six Frank _ had secured a state-room on the large and hand- some steamer St. Clair, placed his baggage in his berth, and was seated on the saloon-deck, waiting to see the boat pull ont. Day was just breaking when he woke next morning, astily dressing, he sought the deck of the boat, and stood by the forward rails, earnestly watching the scene revealed to his the mighty river the boat drove in doubled by the rapid ow lands on either side scem- ed to glide in an upward flow as the steam- er | ed rapidly downward. The young passenger soon got tired of looking Down swift career, its le the Lao. = ee trust to luck for the future, He felt sure of finding Converse at some New Orleans hotel, **[ get off at Memphis,” remarked Mr. Palm- er, after smoking for some minutes in silence, **Glad of your company for so far, What are you interested in the Alabama for?” ; “There’s a man aboard her whom I want to beat to New Orleans.” “Ab! arace, hey? Who is it?” ‘“* He calls himself Rowland Hill,” ‘* The deuce he does!” Mr, Palmer started as if his cigar had burned him, ‘‘ What do you know about bim?”’ | His voice was sharply inquisitive, Frank grew suddenly cautious. He might have been talking too fast. ‘‘Got a little bet with him, that’s all,” he said, indifferently, ‘' Friend of yours, Mr. Palmer?’ ‘* That’s more than I cansay. A _ business ac- quaintance isu better word. I’m to meet him ut Louisville at the end of March in a little busi- ness deal,” “* W hat is it?” asked Frank, “Business is business, my boy, I can’t let out other men’s secrets, A!l I'll say is that if Rowland Hiil’s plans ‘pan out well, more than one man will be rich; and Ill be one of them,” **Something about metal?” ‘* You know of it, then? Mave you ever seen aluminum, the new metal?” “ Don’t know as I have,” ‘‘Tt is extracted from clay, Costs nothing for material, AJl the cost is in getting it out, and that’s mighty expensive, But there’sa big market for it now at fifty cents a pound, for it’s a very useful metal, Suppose it could be made at five or ten cents a pound.” ‘Somebody would get rich,” answered Bh | : **That’s what I think,” rejoined Palmer. This was the end of the Westerner’s revela- | | | | | } ! ’ ' a. * oe « a ni — — s wt és eA =e PAX Fs * rot haa ees a oO - i=! se + | - y ie ee eT = <a = — - Oe ey ~~, But how was the game to be worked? that was the next thing to learn. And what had Clarkson, the Artful Dodger, to do with it? That afternoon Frank wrote along letter to Dick Wister, telling him the story of his jour- ney, and what he had learned. He bade him try and get a free foot to come West in late March, This letter he dropped in the mail-box of the boat. We cannot dwell longeron Frank’s Mississippi experience, It was a new and fertile one, and he never wearied of watching the great river, or its ever-changing banks; now low, now rising into great bluffs; now bare, now densely wood- ed: now deserted, now with groups of houses; now bustling villages, now busy cities, lining the way. Palmer left at Memphis, as he had said, Frank, who bad taken a fancy to bim, bade him a hearty good-by. ‘*By the way,” he said, ‘I will be up the river myself in a week or two, and may stop at Louisville. When do you expect to be there?” ** March 20th, or thereabouts.” ‘““With a pocket full of five-cent aluminum, ” “Tf IT had, I wouldn’t trade it for gold.” ‘* Good-by; then. If I get there i’ll look for ou. ‘ League after league they plunged along their watery way, the weather growing warmer as they reached a more southern latitude. It was like a May-day in the North when, on a day in early March, the St. Clair rounded up to ber wharf in New Orleans, pushing her sbarp nose in between two other great steamers, She bad passed many a boat on the way, but no one on board had set eye on the Alabama. Could it have been passed in the night? Frank soon settled this question by asking a wharf offi- cial, | ‘* Alabama? Three blocksabove. seven this morning, ten hours ago,” ‘*Dished again,” said the boy to bimself, ** But, I’!l find him, if he’s hid in one of General Jackson’s cotton-bules.” CHAPTER ix, A RAT IN A TRAP, A WEEK has passed since Frank Melton land- ed in New Orleans. During that week he has investigated the city thoroughly in a vain ef- fort to find the lost object of his journey, He has called at every hotel, large ~ni small, but _ none of Converse’s known names are on their registers, mor bas he been able to ha glimpse of the well-known form, though he has hung like a shadow for hours around the doors of the leading hotels, He has traverséd the city from end to end, tracing the winding and-asleepy streets of the French quarter, with their wealth of flowers and tropical foliage; and the straight and wide- awake streets of the English quarter, with their business bustle, He has tramped on foot from the site of General Jackson’s cotton-bale barri- cades on the south to the park-like world’s fair grounds on the north. He has followed the line of the great river from end to end of the city. Yet, among the multitudes of faces that have met his eyes, none resembling that of Jacob P, Converse bas been visible, Though the month was March, it felt like a June day of the North, when the boy stopped, weary and disgusted, and leaned against a sturdy tree-trunk, while his eyes dwelt lazily on @ verdant group of orange trees in a broad gar- den before him, | | . ‘‘He wouldn’t have come all the way down here to turn on his heels and peg out again the very next day,” he cogitated. ‘*But, if he’s here, where is he? That's the little conundrum !'d like somebody to answer, Not in a hotel, that’s sure, I won’t give up y though. New Orleans is a big for me to anchor somewhere and wait. Who knows but the tide of travel might sweep him round past me?” ee With this new idea in his head he continued to lean against the tree, his eyes fixed dreamily — a upon the glossy foliage of the orange while a vision of tropical luxuriance through his youthful fancy. > > a ~ “4 aaa - - e ~ Ld * — > - abe ne = m ( 4 | \ —_. oS we _— » = = - - Come in at spread, andl might have passed within a block of him twenty times without seeing him, Maybe it’d be best | aes e - 236 So . =e >" — —a$ ,~ - — ~ +t + bp