Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1090 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

ee ee ee we + Se a ne com Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. 3 ou talk, any one might think you own this vil- ! You just let me go past!” ‘** You’ve got too much tongue, boy,” said the policeman, as he tried to catch hold of Joe, which was fmpossible, ‘‘ an’ if I git hold of ye I'll twist yer ears fer ye.” “Tf you do!” Joe cried, ‘‘an’ Pll take care that you don’t/ Say, are you goin’ to let me go past?” ‘* Not till I pull yer ears, I ain’t.” ** Look out, then, for ’m a-goin’! I’m chain- lightning—I am!” and as he uttered these words Joe tried to dodge by. It was some moments though, before he succeeded in doing so and then the cab had cleared the bridge, turned into a cross-street, and was out of sight. ““Hang policemen!” cried Jubilee, when out of the officer’s reach. ‘* Now, I’ve lost that cab, after all! Never mind, though; Ill bet I left a scratch on the back of it that won’t wash off in ahurry!” And, as he spoke, he drew from his pocket a large nail, with which he had made the mark and threw it at the offending officer. CHAPTER II. (BY ED. L. WHEELER.,] MR. ANDREW ALLAN. AurHouGH frustrated in his attempt to follow the carriage, Jubilee Joe was not discouraged, for he reasoned that he would see it again at the dep6t, and thus stand a fair chance of learning to what part of Bainbridge street Miss Murray had been driven. That Gibbs was a rascal he now was satisfied, and therefore meant no good to the girl. Deliberating a few minutes, Joe continued down Market street to Kighteenth—into which the carriage had turned, going southward; but ben Joe reached the corner it was nowhere in sight. ‘* Well, 'm losin’ time for nothin’, by goin’ it blind,” Joe mused, passing through Highteenth to Chestnut, and then going westward again, en route to the dep6t. ‘‘l guess it won’t gain me anything to search any further, until I kin get on track of the carriage. Blame that copper! ef I kin fall onter any sick eggs V'll give him a pep- rin’ with ’em, some dark night. ’Ca’se sum ig-futted olape, prey it blue togs and brass but- tons, they caleylate they kin run ther hull vil- ” lage. Prosaitic Chestnut street bridge he thus avoid- ed another encounter with the officer, and reach- ed the depét in safety. After a stroll through the crowd in the great station-house Joe pees over to the south side of Market street, where he entered a drug store which he knew was open all night, to examine the City Directory. Turning to the ‘‘ B” index, he sought thename of ‘‘ Bradford;” but although the name was not an uncommon one, there chanced to be no one of that name living on Bainbridge street. ‘‘'That settles that,” he mused. Then he turned over leaf after leaf, until he came to thename of ** Gibbs.” There happened to be more Gibbses than Brad- fords, and examination elicited the fact that one Archibald Gibbs lived at No. — Bainbridge | street. “That's my man,” Joe soliloquized, as he closed the Directory. ‘‘I happe fer daybreak ere [ll know something about Miss Murray’s whereabouts,” Returning to the depdt, he sought the station- | master and informed him of his suspicions, his | search of the Directory, and its result. ‘‘That Gibbsy is a snoozer, if I know boarding- house stew from luxury!” he declared; ‘‘ and I’m *feard th’ young leddy hes fallen inter bad ny, sir!” ‘*Oh, I guess not, Jubilee,” the station-master replied, wearily, for his numerous duties had lainly fatigued him. ‘‘ The fellow ap ow what he was talking about, and I presume if you take the pains you will find Miss Murray sately quartered with her friend.” . **Mebbe,” Joe said, doubtfully, ‘‘ but I don’t blieve it. Atany rate, ’m goin’ to investigate the matter; and if you see Gibbsy around here again, keep an eye on him, and see if you don’t ketch him up to other fly tricks.” Promising to do so. the station-master turned away, evidently not taking much stock in the n to know purty well | where that locality is, and I’ll not more than wait | ared to | gamin’s suspicion, while Joe, seeing no prospect | of getting any more jobs during the night, stow- ed himself away on a truck for a couple of hours’ much-needed rest and repose. As soon as it came daylight he was up and bustling about, wide awake and jolly. Ere the street-railway passenger-traffic had fairly begun he had earned nearly a dollar, and was preparing to start off down-town when \ he was ‘‘ shouldered” by a recent train-arrival —a man aged about twenty-six years, trimly built, neatly dressed, and decidedly good-looking —skin of Grecian whiteness, a delicate blonde mustache, eyes pale and lustrous, yet keen and penetrating in their glance, Yet, something in his nervous demeanor once arrested the observant lad’s attention. ‘* Excuse me, my boy,” he said, as his hand fell upon Jubilee’s shoulder; ‘* 1 would like a lit- tle information. Will you grant it?” Joe’s keen eyes made a lightning inventory of the questioner before he vouchsafed a reply. ‘Well, [reckon I can try,” he answered with a twinkle in his eye, ‘‘although Vl take it for granted that Ulysses ain’t in the city, at pres- ent. D’ye wanter know where Broad and I'our- teenth street is? or has some one been goin’ through yer?” ‘** Well, no—that is, not exactly. You see, I am a stranger in Philadelphia; and I presumed I mee learn from you or one of your sort that which I want to know, without taking the trou- ble to hunt a Directory.” ‘*One of my sort!” Joe ejaculated. ‘‘See here! what fer a sort d’ye take me fer, any- how?” ‘Why, astreet-Arab, to be sure, my son. You do not presume to be an alderman or the mayor, do you?” ‘* Nix-ee, McGinnis! but I do presume to weigh just as many ounces to th’ pound, and do prem’ to consider myself jes’ as honest as ther iggest of ’em, plug hat an’ all. So, if there’s onyuens you want to know, spit ’er out!” “Well, what I want to know is this: Do you know the location of the —— Insurance Com- pany’s office?” ‘¢ As wellas I know ther nose on my face when there’s a dead cat in ther gutter,” Joe promptly responded, ‘‘an’ my nose ain’t nartial to cats, nohow.” ‘* Well, where is the office?” was the next in- quiry of the stranger, who was evidently no ad- mirer of Joseph’s ready tongue. ‘*See here!” the boy said, giving his interro- gator another glance from head to foot, ‘‘ before you go to askin’ too many questions about cor- rations an’ the like, supposin’ ye give us a 1int as to yer name, antecedents, bizness stand- in’ an’ bank account? We slow sort, as hangs around here, are onter all o’ ther fast inquiries, an’ our love fer ther Declaration of Independ- ence won't ‘low us ter git took in by any sharps, if we can help ourselves. See?” The stranger turned partly upon his heel, with an expression of disgust upon his counte- nance, ‘* Will you, or will you not tion?’ he demanded, impatiently, ‘Oh! you bet I will!” Joe replied, ‘ an’ what’s more, [ll conduct ye right to ther place ef Sadly a dollar a-glidin’ down inter my ‘ket. : ‘“‘Tt’s a bargain, my boy—it’s a bargain!” ‘** Well, the office will be pee by the time we kin git there,” Joe replied, glancing at the clock in the waiting-room; ‘‘so fork over yer dollar if I’m goin’ ter steer ther boat. Bizness is bullion to me.” The man produced a well-filled purse, and gave Joe the required price; then they boarded ©, car eastward bound. Little did the sharp and shrewd gamin im- agine then that the man he was guiding knew the city as well, if not even better, than he knew it himself! Half an hour later saw them in the vicinity of Fourth and Chestnut streets, where they en- tered a prominent insurance office. Joe passed inside with the man he had guided without being invited to do.so} but impelled by a desire to know the stranger’s business. ‘“My name is Allan—Andrew Allan,” the stranger said, in reply to an interrogation as to what could be done forhim, ‘I wish to take out an insurance PONCy on my life; and as the business standing of this corporation has been favorably reported to me I have concluded to deal with you.” ‘We shall be glad to add your name to our already long list of policy-holders, Mr. Allan,” said the vice-president, Mr. Ezra Bond, who had opened the interview. ‘‘ Do you desire to insure immediately?” ‘*T do, sir. Although physically in perfect health, I have for some months had a forebod- ing that I will not live to see the end of the pres- ent year. Of course, it is but a foreboding; nevertheless it sometimes gives me great depres- sion of spirits; so I have concluded to make the nec provisions in behalf of a dear friend, in case 1 am suddenly taken off.” “Ob, certainly! certainly! answer my ques- It is a duty Se which we owe to our friends to leave behind us some provision for their protection,” the vige- president said, with reassuring business tact. ** 1 shall be happy to fill out a form for you. Your name is yeep Ce Allan. Of what place?” ‘‘Of Lancaster, this State.” ‘* Your age?” ‘*' Twenty-six years, three months, and ten days.” ‘** Your business occupation?” ‘* Simply that of gentleman-of-leisure,” ‘*T presume you are familiarly known in Lan- caster?” ‘*T am not,sir. Although I have resided there several years, I have but few speaking-ac- quaintances, and yet, I imagine, almost any one on the street could point me out and call me by name,” ‘*Oh, yes: of course. And, now about the amount you wish to insure for, Mr, Allan?” Allan was silent a moment, apparently in re- BeCmeay, his gaze directed upon the polished oor. ‘* Why, twenty thousand dollars, I guess,” he said, finally. ‘‘I can carry that amount with- out embarrassment.” ‘*'To whom is this amount to be made payable, in case of your death?’ ‘To Laura Murray!” Jubilee Joe could scarce repress an exclama- tion of astonishment. He did, however, and Allan did not notice his eat surprise and interest. ‘* What place is this young lady a resident of?” the interrogator went on. ‘*God only knows—I do not!” Allan replied, manifesting considerable agitation. ‘‘ The last I knew of her she lived in Pittsburg. We were engaged to be married when we were children, though I have never seen the young lady in my life, or at least not since we were children in England, That she is living, however, I have no doubt; and in case of my death I wish a search to be made for her until, living or dead, she is found; the cost of the search to be deducted from the amount of the policy. My lawyer isso instructed.” ‘* You understand, I suppose, Mr, Allan,” the vice-president added, ‘‘ that you must undergo a medical examination by our physician?” ‘** Certainly, sir.” The company’s physician was called, and after the usual examination he declared the applicant to be in perfectly sound health, ‘*Ttis as I told you,” Allan remarked; ‘‘ Inever felt better. I have just returned from a sea voyage. I shall spend a few days here in the city, and then get home to Lancaster.” Mr. Bond busied himself at writing for several minutes—then looked inquiringly at the watch- ful Joe. ** This lad—?” he began. ‘Is merely a street Arab I employed to show me the way here,” Allan replied. ‘I guess I will not require your services any longer,” he added, turning to Joe, ‘‘I can tind my way around now, I presume.” Joe arose aud bowed himself out of their pres- ence. ‘‘ All right, Mr, Allan,” he mused; ‘‘ if that’s all you want of me, ’'m not kickin’; but I’ve tumbled onto somethin’ that will make Laura Murray smole a smile, in case you should give up the ghost this Centennial year. It strikes me ruther a leetle curious, though, how Laura Murray could live near Lancaster, as she said, and also at Pittsburg, as you say. Dll bet my boots there’s a full-grown colored gentleman in th’ fence somewhere! ‘Yer age is twenty-six years, three months, an’ ten. days, aire it? Ill jest remember that.” CHAPTER ITT. [BY E. LL. WHEELER.) JOE ON THE TRAIL, Jor did not tarry in the vicinity, but betook himself thoughtfully toward Bainbridge street. ‘* His royal jigs don’t kinder expect he’s goin’ to last th’ year out, eh?’ he mused as he strodealong. ‘¢ Wonder how a feller would feel wi’ that opin- ion of hisself these times of ‘ skin yer neighbor? ‘‘Strikes me most people would be lookin’ about smart fer a cast-iron refrigerator filled with unmeltable ice, ’Stead o’ that, Andy, th’ dear old duck, is figgerin’ fer stamps; an’ m name ain’t Jubilee Joe ef I ain’t dead onto his haze. He wants ter shuffle off in style, an’ go to ther funeral wi’ brass-band accompaniment. Ef he leaves his boodle to Laura, he reckons on her givin’ him a first-class send-off. Howsomever, presume ef Laura knew of th’ prospects ahead, she’d go ter work in a laundry and save u money enough ter provide ther brass band, righ away. Maybe, tho’, ef I hunt her up, an’ can, micboo S. 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