Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1090 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detecti e. **So it seems to pe.” **See here, Mother, do you know that we hold a good hand in this game?” ‘* Hal ha! ha! chust vot I said ven Tom vent avay! Isaid to my old self, sez I, ‘Go your vay, my fine laddie, put ton’t carry your head apove your shoulders too High. I vork for those who pay the pest, and if you fail to gare me my due, there may be von too many in this game.’ Ha! ha! ha!” ‘**T see you’ve cut your eye-teeth, Mother.” ‘*Hel he! he! Vy, my son, I cut dem years an’ years ago! So long ago, in fact, that ’veal- most vorn ’em out keepin’’em sharp. Ha! ha! ha!” And as she laughed, the eye-teeth in ques- tion protruded from her shriveled mouth in a most hideous manner, ‘*If we wanted to, Mother, we could chip in a cold deal on them, splendidly.” ‘** To pe sure ve could.” ** We've got the girl, you see.” “‘Ha!l ba! Yes, ve have got de girl!” ‘** And all this insurance stands wn her name.” ‘*To pe sure—to pe sure!” Here they both laughed, long and loudly. and hitched their chairs up close together, and then for half an hour or longer they con- versed in low whispers, evidently afraid that the very walls would hear them. But, to return to Joe. CHAPTER XI. [BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON. ] ) JUBILEE’S PROTEGE. THE boy’s chances seemed desperate indeed for a brief space of time, but the man’s grasp had hardly tightened before it relaxed and his hands fell to his side. ‘*No, no!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ Heaven forgive me, what mad idea was in my brain. Boy, you spoke only naturally, but you made a grave mis- take. I am not intoxicated, nor do I drink strong liquors.” They were near a lamp-post, and as he rested one hand against it and stood unsteadily, the light fell full upon him. Accustomed to reading of faces, Jubilee Joe formed a new opinion of him as he thus saw his face plainly. ‘** You're sick, mister,” he said. **T am,” was the hoarse reply. ** When was ye took?” **[ don’t know, but I do know that I am in a bad way. Boy, you look honest, dirty as you are, The two looked at each other, the stranger using an evident effort to collect his senses and, it seemed, to read the boy. On his own part, Joe saw a handsome young man of about twenty-five, who looked bold and manly, and who wore a sailor’s dress. **Reckon I will average with a crowd,” Joe replied. ‘I’ve lost my bearings, and am steerin about without compass on an untracked sea. have been drugged, and am about as fit to care for myself as a child. I have a little money. Can I trust you to see me anchored in a safe harbor?” It was a request Joe would not always have regarded favorably, but he had taken a fancy to the stranger, and did not like the idea of leaving him to be preyed upon by the human sharks of the vicinity. But to what place could he take him? He was afraid the railroad men would not give him a place on the truck, where Joe himself slept, and he had no better quarters to offer. Suddenly was a good fellow at heart, as he had proved by saving Joe from his enemies when he hid under | the table, and Joe felt sure he would give quar- ters to this stranger, since he had the money to pay for it. nd it was a safe, though humble, place. So to Johnny’s Joe conducted his new ac- quaintance, steadying his weak steps and talk- ing in his whimsicalway. His befogged protégé could not remember his own name, but he did remember that he had been on a sea voyage of some duration: that he had landed in New York and then taken the cars for Philadelphia. His dazed state of mind had begun soon after drink- ing a glass of water on the train. Once at Johnny’s, arrangements were soon made by which a room was given the sailor, he paying in advance. lane Joe went up-stairs and helped him into bed. He soon fell asleep, and the boy was about to leave him when he noticed several marks in India ink on his arm, sailor fashion. Joe examined them. On one arm was a pictured ship under full sail; on the other, an anchor. he remembered Johnny Flynn, his | English friend, and the case was settled. Johnny | But the boy saw more. . In the middle of the anchor was a line of let- ters, running lengthways, and under a _ close scrutiny these soon resolved themselves into a name: ‘‘ ANDREW ALLAN. 11—2—50.”’ ‘‘ Jemima P. C. Jenkins!’ ejaculated the boy, ‘‘what’s he got them there fur? That’s ther name o’ th’ pound-cake crocodile what got his recious life, insured fur twenty thousand dol- ars. Wonder why fur this sailor chap has sech a sign flyin’ at Ais binnacle-head, or foreto royal-peach-blossom yard, or whatever it'scalled? Look-a-here, Jubilee Joe, ther older you git ther more infermation you run onter. Reckon te may yit die with inflammation o’ ther brain. ’vosh, I must think o’ this, sub rosary. Be thar two Andrew Allans, or be thar less, or more? I guessthere is, but nothin’ is more un- sartain than a sure fact, IDllsleep on it. Ef I can’t do nothin’ else, I kin play policy on 11—2— 50.” So Joe went to bed himself, after taking a bath, for Johnny offered him quarters, and he was not going to neglect a chance to be near his protége. Remembering Laura Murray, he felt that he ought to inform some one in authority that she was held a prisoner at ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s, but he had never had ae luck when dealing with the police. They had always snubbed him in the past, and he felt sure they would laugh at him now if he asked for their help. ‘No; I’ve got ter play a lone hand, an’ if I don’t hold trumps enough, I must stock ther kyards; that’s all.” And he went to sleep. In the morning he found his protégé somewhat better. He said his name was Andrew Allan, that he had formerly lived at Lancaster, but had been at sea for some time. He had come to Philadelphia, after landing at New York, be- cause some one had sent for him; but whoit was he could not tell, nor why they wanted him. Joe decided that it was probable his head would become fully clear by night, so it was ar- Ce that he should stay where he was until then, This settled, the boy descended to the tap- room. There he found the loungers laughing over a letter some previous visitor had dropped. It was a gushing love-letter and, at first, Joe felt little interest in it. Later, when he read it, his views changed. He had not forgotten his engagement to call at Mrs. Bradford’s and see the false Laura Mur- ray, to whom he had promised to deliver a let- ter Which existed only in his mind. Now the desired chance was offered him. This effusive love-letter did not contain the name of the young woman for whom it was intended; it would be the easiest thing in the world. to deliv- er it to Sally Mark, alias Laura Murray, and make her think it was intended for her. Believing this to be a good idea, Joe asked Johnny for the letter and received it. The good- hearted man also gave Joe a fresh suit of clothes to replace those he had taken into the well with him, which were coated with mud which stuck to them closer than a brother. The new suit was a good fit; so good, in fact, that another boy of Joe’s sizeynight have stowed himself away in them at one and the same time. Freshly equipped, the boy set out for Mrs, Bradford's, where he arrived withoutadventure. A ring of the bell brought a brisk young Irish girl to the door, and he asked to see ‘* Miss Lau- ra Murray.” 4 . ‘¢ Begorra, why didn’t ye come afore dhe milk- men was out?” she asked. ‘‘Tf you take me ter be a drummer fur milk- an’-water, you’ve sot up my sign on th’ wrong corner. Dol look like a tin-can fiend? See any- thing about me that resembles a pump? S’pose [keep cows on ther half-shell?’ innocently in- quired Joe. ‘‘Go along wid your sassy tongue. What I mean to say is that this is no hour to call on a leddy. She ain’t up wid dhe mornin’ Mt a ‘¢Then I'll wait fur her. Reckon | kin enjoy myself jist as wal with sech a purty gal as you be, ez with any other gal, I do.” Kitty—that was her name-—looked pleased at this flattery. ‘* But have yez really business wid dhe young mistress?” ‘*T hey a letter 1 am ordered under penalty 0’ a fu’st-class thrashin’ ter deliver ter her own hands, an’ no flea-blown ’Merican bloke ain’t go- in’ ter play traitor this Centennial year.” This settled the matter, and Kitty invited him in and gave him a seatin the kitchen. She liked mart ys, and had taken a strong fancy to 02, 11 —— -- The latter resolved to make good use of his time. ‘‘Mrs. Bradford must ’a’ been right glad ter see Laura,’ he carelessly observed. ‘‘She was that, though she hadn’t seen her since she was a baby; and Laura was more §0 to find her. Andrew Allan’s comin’, too, this fore- oon. **Ts he, really?” sé Yis. ” ‘* Tt’ll be a reg’lar family jamboree.” **I do nee they’ll like each other,” continued Kitty, volubly. ‘So do I,” said Joe, with a wise wink, though he had no idea about what she was talking. ‘*It would be an illegant wedding.” ‘* Bang-up,” Joe agreed. **Do ye know dhe full partic’lars?” ‘* Not all on’em, S’pose you elucidate while I wait.” **Oh! ye see it wasan old family matter, an’ Laura an’ Andrew was betrothed whin she was ababy. Thin dhe Allans lift England an’ come to Lancaster, an’ soon afther Laura’s father died —they was livin’in London. She wint to live in Yorkshire, an’ stayed there till a year ago, Thin she came to America, an’ wint to Lancas- ter, too; but Andrew was gone. Thin whin Laura’s aunt died, she wint to live at Pittsburg. So Mrs. Bradford’s letter from a London lawyer said. Ye see Andrew had gone to say, ah’ be- tween us, I suspect he wint’cause he didn’t want to marry a girl picked out for him by some wan else, But no matter about that, since all has coom around roight.” ‘*T know all this, straight ez a copper’s club; but how did it git around all right?’ careiessly inquired Joe. ‘* Oh! *twas Mrs. Bradford, bliss her dear soul! She was an ould fri’nd o’ Mr, Allan’s mither an’ she wanted to bring thim togither an’ see if they could loike aich ither. She found out whin Mr. Allan’s ship was due in New York, an’ she wrote to him, an’ to Laura at dhe same toime— she had Laura’s addriss from the lawyer, you know—though niver a worrud did she giveawa to Laura; only tellin’ her in dhe letther that if she w’u’d coom she w’u’d get her employment; so Miss Laura accepted dhe invitation. She’s here a’ready, an’ Andrew Allan has sint word he’ll coom dhe forenoon,” Joe began to see clearer. ‘Wf they git spliced, how much fur boodle will th’ two on ’em have ter stave off ther gnaw- in’ pangs © hunger an’ sich?” » ‘© Oh! they say dhere is thirty thousand pounds in ould England—that’s near a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. But if they don’t marry they won’t git a rid cent.” ** Jess so, jess so; an’ that’s why I hope they'll hitch horses,” ‘*SodolI. Have yezsane Mr, Allan?” ‘* Ya-as.” ‘* Ts he nice?” ‘* He’s a purty good looker, you kin bet your last year’s shoes. Didn’t you never see him, Kitty?” ‘* Niver; an’ what is funnier, he an’ Miss Laura niver hev sane aich ither since they’ve growed up, an’ Mrs, Bradford has niver seen him nayther, since he’s grown to a man. Strange, ain’t it?” ‘*The shadder o’ a strangeness does seem ter fall athwart ther horizing,” Joe agreed, ‘‘ but I shall let them harness their own hosses, while I saw wood an’ say nothin’,” ** Ave coorse, an’ so shill I.” Just then the sound of a bell summoned Kitty, and Joe was left alone, much to his relief. He wanted to think this complicated matter over. ‘¢ There’s a light in ther East, an’ I begin ter ketch onver ther p‘ints o’ ther game started by Gibbsy, ‘Cap’ Mark ‘an’ Tom Smith. Laura Murray an’ Andrew Allan was half-married, or, as Kitty calls it, betrothed—good word that; re- minds me o’ a steel-trap—when they was kids. One was brung up in Lundon, an’ t’otherin Lan- caster, Penny. ‘They ain’tsee’d each other since they kin remember, an’ Mrs. Bradford ain’t see’d either since they was kids. ‘¢ Andrew, bein’ a chap o’ spunk, didn’t like ther idee o’ bein’ married like a stick, so he run away ter sea, an’ when Laura got ter Lancaster, he wa’n’t thar. But Mrs. Bradford hez got ther idee o’ bringin’ them tergether, Wal, she’s goin’ ter git some sort.o’ cattle tergether, an’ right here comes in ther fine Italian band o’ Smith, Mark an’ Gibbs. Ez Mrs. Bradford, Laura an’ An- drew don’t know each other from three bales o’ hay, it is proposed ter work in Smith as Andrew, an’ Sally Mark as Laura. Ez Daniel Webster said to ther flea, ‘Thar’s no great bite without some small bug.’ é about my pard, with ‘ Andrew ‘* Now, wha | 900 com Cc Ss