Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1090 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

14 ~_—— ew GE en oo - — mornin’, Tuesday, September the fifth, in this year of grace an Gineral Washington—1876, right here in ther city of Phillymaclinka- delfy-i-a, down at th’ office of Ezra Bond, whar I took ye, an’ ’ll throw up therspung. I’llsay ther fat is in ther fire, an’ Cap. Mark an’ Co, an take ther pan. Now, let’s hear ye say some- thin’,’ ‘* What are you talking about? The policy is in the Equitable, taken out in New York a year ago; and I know nothing about any Ezra Bond, nor was I in this city for the whale year, until last evening, just before I met you.” ‘*Good enough!” shouted Joe, clapping his hands. ‘‘ Now I’m fly to ther hull game, an’ a wall-eyed mule with a game leg c’u’d bu’st ther snoozers wide open an’ take ’em all apart. Poor Laura! It’sa pity fur her; but they didn’t give me room ter turn meself accordin’ ter my size, an’ soit wa’n’t any wonder they got away with my baggage. Ther only thing ‘eft is ter git even, an’ a leetle more so.” ‘* Whom do you mean by ‘ Laura?” inquired the young man. ‘* Laura Murray, of Lancaster.” ‘*“Heavens! How do you come to know any- thing about her? and what’s the matter with her?’ ‘* Nothin’s the matter now; she’s dead.” ** Dead !” He was more surprised than Sally Mark had been. With a bound he was out of bed and has- tily throwing on his clothes. ‘*In a hurry, ain’t yer? Fur a sick man, Id say you wasrightspry. May ez well wait till I kin bring yer full pertick’lers. She can’t be buried till ter-morrow.” As the young man was so excited, Joe kept his head cool; and watching Allan, threw his arms around hin, just in time to save him from falling heavily to the floor. ‘*Tho’rt so. Ther blaze has nigh took ther stiffenin’ purty well outen yer. ou git back ter bed till yerr stronger, an’ I'll go sot a inquest on ther corpus-licked-us. An’ ez ‘Tom Smith ll be tryin’ his dirty games, ef he hez the show, Til hev Johnny put a man ’round to head him off. Ef yer keep on doin’ well, I rec'xon yer kin go out this P. M., if yer wants to, an’ take asquint at ther girl yer were ter marry.” ‘‘ See here. How do you know—” But Joe was already out’of hearing. Having made his arrangements with Flynn, he hurried off down the street. A sudden hope had dawned upon him and he wanted to inspect the corpse. Scarcely had he emerged from the narrow cross-street and turned the corner, when Andrew Allan, white and shaky, stole out of the saloon and staggered away toward the other side of the block. He had lost no time, and so eluded Flynn, who, five minutes later, found his room empty. At the corner Allan lurched against a lamp- post, and holding on to it, stared around him in a dazed, uncertain sort of way, A voice in his ear hardly recalled him to him- self, ‘‘ fixcuse me, sir, if I am mistaken; but you look to be in trouble. Can I help you any?” Allan looked up and saw a young gentleman, almost a counterpart of himself. ‘‘Thank you,” he answered, trying to brush away the misty film that would curtain his eyes, ‘* Did you hear anything about a young lady be- ing killed last night? Laura Murray was her name,and ’mherfriend. I’m trying to find her.” The aristocratic-looking young man started as though some one had slapped his face; but quick- ly recovered his self-possession, though evident- ly by an effort. ‘‘Ah! the accident on Spruce street. How fortunate! You can clear up the mystery. I can take you to the body, because I happen to be one of the coroner’s jury. Here. Take my arm to yonder hack, You seem to be too weak to walk. We will bethere, then, in a jiffy.” And Johnny Flynn, alarmed somewhat for the gentleman who had been left in his charge, and making instant search, came bolting along just in time to see him following some one into a hack. The driver whipped up his horses, the vehicle rattled away, and Johnny could only suspect that the other occupant of the carriage was an- other of his boarders, Tom Smith, the fictitious Andrew Allan. CHAPTER XIV. (RY T. C. HARPAUGH.) JUBILEE AT THE INQUEST. JUBILEE Joz£ knew where to find the coroner’s office, where was to be held the inquest over the J ubilee Joe, the Chain-Light body of the young girl found mangled by the car on Spruce street. Joe was not long in reaching the coroner’s office, the front door of which was open and be- sieged by a crowd of people. A big policeman who .ooked all dignity had | stationed himself in the doorway, and Joe re- cognized in him the very man who had forced him to leave the hack to which he had clung on the night Laura Murray was decoyed from the yy Se and into the meshes of the conspirators. he boy had reasons for knowing that police- | men are blessed with good memories, and he at once began to avoid the eyes of this coroner’s office. The young bootblack detective now began to nudge his little body forward, worming him- self through the crowd with the dexterity of an imp. Joe knew well just what he wanted to do, and with one eye fixed on the policeman whenever he could see that individual, he kept on until he found himself beyond the door and in the room where the coroner was conducting in person se investigation of so much importance to the Oy. fhe room was rather commodious for an office, and Joe found it well crowded with a somewhat motley crowd, many of whom he knew were not witnesses but had been drawn thither out of curiosity. The coronér’s jury was composed of well-to-do citizens living in the vicinity of the office, and the most of them were old veterans at the busi- ness, who knew just how a verdict should be worded to convey the right impression. Joe was brought to a stand by hearing the ecoroner’s clerk call the name of ‘* Achilles Spriggs,” and saw a youngish man with a sandy mustache step forward toward the wit- ness-chair. ‘What is your occupation, Mr. Spriggs?’ asked the fat and fussy little coroner, when the witness had been sworn. ‘*T drive a street-car,” was the reply. ‘* Is Spruce street a part of your line?” ‘*Yes, sir.” ‘‘ Were you driving vhe car which last night had the—the misfortune to strike the—ah! yes —the unfortunate subject of this coronial inves- | tigation?” ‘**T was,” ‘* Just so,” continued the coroner. ‘* Now, Mr. Spriggs, you may elucidate to the jury the | circumstances of the lady’s sudden taking off. Speak slowly and pronounce distinctly, so as to allow my clerk to take your testimony verbatini | et literatum.” Achilles Spriggs seemed confused by the to him incomprehensible wind-up of the coroner’s | sentence, but soon collected enough thoughts to | proceed in an intelligible manner. He gave a straightforward story of as much | of the accident as he had witnessed, which did | not take long, and subsided suddenly and before some people thought him near the end. ‘t Did the lady appear to have any friends in the vicinity?” asked the coroner. sé No, sir.”’ ‘‘ Didn’t anybody in the car at the time recog- nize her?” ‘¢ | believe not.” ‘+ And nobody among the crowd atitracted by the accident?” The driver hesitated for a moment. ‘*T recollect, now, that I saw a man look at the corpse and remark that it was a bad go for a young girl who was far from home and with- out friends in Peamanged pee he said. ** You didn’t know the man?” ** No, sir.” ** He isn’t here now, is he, Mr. Spriggs?” The car-driver turned and began to survey the crowd behind him. ‘*Tt warn’t me, as I’m not afraid ter look ’im in the eye,” said Joe, to himself. ‘‘ Hello! who is thet feller dodgin’ thar? By jiggeree! it’s ther boss ov ’em all—the sweetest-scented cherubim ov ther whole lot—‘ Captain’ Mark himself!” Until that moment Joe had not seen this man, whose elbows almost touched him, and it was the ‘* Captain’s ” efforts to avoid the searching eyes of Se apie Spriggs that called the boy’s attention to him. The car-driver had by this time given up his search, and told the coroner that the man who had made the commiserating remarks about the girl was not in the house. The assurance seemed to relieve ‘‘ Captain” Mark, and he again became interested in the proceedings, but from that time on he was nar- rowly watched by Joe. ter the driver, several other witnesses were ning’ Detective. M. P., who | had stationed himself in the front door of the | ee a | | called, but they threw no additional light on the | subject. It seemed from all that the boy had | heard, that the victim of the accident had used | too much haste in trying to board the car, and | had in consequence of her rashness lost her life. ‘‘ Mebbe ef they’d call Cap’n Mark thar they’d | learn suthin’ thet’d ’stonish ’em,” murmured Ju- bilee Joe. ‘‘Couldn’t [ throw a bomb-shell inter this court’ ov death by makin’ a simple suggestion? Guess [ won’t, though; guess by | Philamajig! (0) not put any more witness-bees inter thet old high-kicker’s pocket. Not for Joe, | thankee, no.” The coroner rather abruptly announced the conclusion of the investigation, and the police- | man at once began to clear the room. Joe went | out with the crowd and watched ‘ Captain” Mark stroll away with a pleased expression on his villainous countenance, but did not quit the vicinity himself. He stayed around until about half an hour later, when he saw the members of the jury file out and separate into little groups ‘*They’ve filled up ther same old form, *bout Providence takin’ ther girl off, with no blame attached to ther street-car line. They'll all ex- pect a pass over ther road fer thet verdict. ‘¢ Shine! shine! shine ’em up fer half a dime! an’ make ’em reflect yer piety an’ good charac- ter:” Joe approached one of the jury as he shouted his occupation at the top of his lungs, and had his foot upon the box before the man could re- monstrate. ‘*Only five cents, boy? sartain?’ ‘*Thet’s all. I never humbug the prominent citizens ov Philadelphy. Bad go, thet on Spruce last night.” ‘* Ter’ble,” said the man. ‘* Reckon you blamed nobody ? ‘We couldn’t, The girl used too much haste an’ got killed; that’s all there was of it.” ‘Ov course. Whar is ther corpse?” ‘*Down at the undertaker’s, at Cecil’s. other grave in the Potter’s field, boy.” ‘‘One more unfortunate,” said Joe, whose | eyes looked moist, and his brushes flew faster than ever over the tops of the juryman’s boots. | Thar ye ar’, mister! Toss yer mickel down this | way, an’ I’m off!” Joe was prompth, paid by the nyan, and Jost | no time on his way to the undertaker’s shop. He | did not know this personage, but that did not | prevent him from entering bis office and accost- ing him without a moment’s hesitation. ‘Say, mister, could an American citizen ov i'my size get a squint at ther victim ov ther Spruce street accident?” asked Jubilee Joe. | ** Hit’s no morbid curiosity. I’m Jookin’ for a | lady friend what’s been missin’ fer five days, an’ strange corpses ar’ gittin’ all-fired common now- adays.” The undertaker looked for a moment as if he was going to refuse Joe’s request, but all at once he said: ‘* Go into that room there and take a look.” An: Joe was not slow about accepting the favor, and the next minute he was gazing upon the vic- tim of the accident, the dead body of the sup- posed Laura Murray. ‘‘That’s enough. J’m satisfied,” he said, turn- ing away. ‘“‘Tll bet my bank-stock that that girl never saw Lancaster, an’ never heard ov Andrew Allan. Yl go back an’ cheer Allan up, an’ then Ill get a look into this beautiful con- spiracy. Look out for breakers, Gibbsy an” Cap’n Mark!” CHAPTER XV. [BY DETECTIVE DOUGLASS. ] JUBILEE ‘‘ FETCHES” GIBBS. JUBILEE JOE returned at once to Johnny Flynn’s, and there learned of the real Andrew Allan’s departure in company with Tom Smith, He felt both indignant and discouraged. Sitting down at one of the tables he buried his face in his hands, and thus remained for some time in deep thought. ‘© What shell 1 do?’ he muttered. ‘Shell I go an’ blow etallout ter th’ perlice? Nix-ee! They’d claim all ther honors fer th’erselves' | ‘¢ Whatthen? Ef I could only git Gibbsy in- to a tight hole, an’ make him come over ter my | side— By th’ great George Henry Washington! that’s jist ther idee! Wonder; where I kin find | him, though¢; a By ther great O. P. Q. Jackson! he’s jist ther; huckleberry I want now, an’ I want him bad: No time left now ter do enny more detective work. This here b’ile is jist about ripe, an’ itll bu’st afore I know et.” The boy was just about to start out when some one entered the saloon—Gibbs himself. The villain was looking savage enough to an- ~“comicbooks.co