Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1090 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Jubilee Joe, th black companions, whom he saw on the side ‘walk, and who stood gazing after him with as much surprise as if he had seen Aladdin’s pal- ace ‘*Guess I slightly ’stonished Billy. Wait till I see him. on’t I fling him some whoppers? Tell him my uncle.in ‘Chiny has pegged out, and left me his pile.” The cab rattled on through the streets, and “drew up at length, after nearly an hour’s jour- mney. f This is the house,” said the cabman, opening the door of the carriage. ‘‘I know it now likea breeze.” Joe jumped out, and.stretched his legs on the pavement. The street they were in was built up with me- -dium-sized houses. The one to which the cab- man pointed was a three-storied brick, with a side alley on one side. It joined another house on the other. . ‘* Sure?” asked Joe, taking a quick survey of the neighborhood. ‘‘No mistake about it. They went into this house. They came out again inside of five min- utes and told me to drive on.” ‘*Then you druv’ to Patsy O’Neill’s, on Bain- bridge street?” ‘* That’s it, to a hair.” “That’lldo, Guess 'm ’bout done with you, “cept one thing.” 2 ‘* What’s that?” ‘*T want my divvy.” ‘¢' Your what?” **'You ain’t wantin’ to say you aon’t under- stand English? See here, old chap, who got you this job? S’pose I go’round pickin’ up custom- ers fur cabbies ’thout gettin’ paid fur it? Not much!” The cabman looked at him and laughed. ‘** You had your ride,” ** What’s that your biz? Fork over fifty cents. a to make a Centennial trip out of this ob. ' ; The cabman had been well liked the boy’s impudence. half-dollar with a laugh. ‘t Anything else?” ‘**(jJuess that’s *bout all. Guv’ you my patron- age in ther future. Now you kin vamose.” The boy continued to gaze at the house after the cabman had driven off. He seratched his head doubtfully. ‘Ther gal’s in there, Leastways tHat’s my notion. I’m goin’ ter vestigate that there cala- boose. ITve got ter/go through that noble man- sion somehow. Fu’st thing’s ter git my twin- klers on ther gal. Next,thing’s ter warp her out. Then I’ve got ter countermine them there conspiratters, an’ bleed that vice-president. He’s got ter fork over lively, you bet, fore I empty my bag o’ news inter his ’tater-paw. I’mon ther war-path fur cash, Iam; not fur glory, An’ I ain’t goin’ ter sell out fur auction prices.” While he stood gazing at the house a dwarfish negro came shuffling along down the street, turned into the alley, and then into the house. ‘* Hullo! wonderif that coon lives there?” Ju- bilee thought. ‘‘Say, I wonder if J couldn’t 33 for him? He’s’bout my size, an’ ll bet I tetas where to get a wig an’ face-black to fix up jest like him. ‘a think this here idee over, an’ ‘see how it fits,” Debating with himself for a while, he finally started off at a quick pace toward Bainbridge street. The iden had come to him to investigate Patsy O’Neill’s saloon, and if possible get his eye on the ‘* Captain’s ” daughter. He wanted to see what sort of looking girl this was who was undertaking the perilous task of ail awe Laura Murray, the unfortunate irl whom he believed to be held prisoner in the ust-street den. Reaching the desired locality, Joe marched boldly into Patsy O’Neill’s saloon. He had né plan of action laid out, but he trusted to chance to help him, and he wanted badly to see the in- side of that shanty. It was a low-down rum-mill, with the proprie- tor, a bloated-faced Irishman behind the bar, and two or three beats in front. Patsy looked up angrily-at Joe, as he swaggered in; as inde- pendent as a lord. ‘* What does yez want, b"hoy? Gitout wid yez now. Wedon’t sell to rats.” ‘Reard ye’d p’ison ’em?” asked Joe, impudent- ly. ‘‘S’pose your whisky kills at ten paces, don’t it!” ‘“-Ye'little spalpeen! Is it to insult me ye'’re arter? Away wid yez now, or I'll t’ache ye a lesson ye’ll not soon forgit!” He bustled around outside the bar, his face redder than ever with anger. Joe stood his ground bravely. maid, and rather e handed him a a — ‘* ve got a letter fur ther ‘ Capting,’” he said, feeling in his kets. ‘‘ Yell take that in, I s’pose, fore ye kick me inter ther street?” Patsy halted and looked at the boy. ‘* A letter fer ‘Cap’ Mark?” he demanded. ‘Who isit from? Pass it over, and git.” ‘* Pass it over? What sort of a donkey do you take me fur? I wasn’t weaned on skim-milk, old hoss, nary time. I’ve got orders ter guv’ it to ther ‘ Capting’ hisself, or to his darter. It’s a important dokyment, now, J tell ye.” atsy continued to glare on him, as if in doubt whether he had not better kick him out and be done-with it. He finally thought better of it, opened the house door, and walkedin. Joe heard him calling somebody inside. He re- turned after a minute. ‘* Ye’ll find her in there,” he said, pointing backward with his thumb. ‘‘ Take her the let- ter, and then make yerself scarce. D’yez hear? Don’t “low no bootblacks to loaf round my lace. r Overjoyed with his success, Joe hastened into the room pointed out, and shut the door behind him, What to do next he knew not; but he trusted to his impudence, and his talent for squeezing through a narrow hole. He was still feeling eagerly in his pockets, in a desperate effort to find the imaginar'y letter. “Drat it all,” he muttered. ‘'I wonder if Billy Butcher went through me. If he did Pll bounce his go-cart.” ‘* You haven’t lost the letter?” He looked up. Before him stood a girl of about the size of Laura Murray, and not unlike her in face, though with a very different ex- pression. Joe was an old bird at making out faces, and he made up his mind about this one at sight. ‘*That gal knows beans,” he said to himself. ‘*She’s been through the mill. Ain’t no inner- cent flukes ’’bout her. But she’s gettin’ herself up ter play respectable.” The girl in fact was stylishly dressed, but wore an overabundance of jewelry. Her face was a very handsome one, but it was a bold beauty that told its lesson to Joe’s quick eyes. ‘* Well, where’s the letter? Don’t stand there all day like an ape.” ‘* Can’t find it,” admitted Joe, ‘‘ Had a bit of a tug with one o’ ther boys comin’ down yere, and I guess he went through me. Jist wait. [ll go back and salt his porridge. He’s got to fork over or he’ll git his b’iler bad bu’st.” ‘“ Who sent you with the letter?” ‘* I don’t know ther chap. But I tell you he was handsome as a picter. Met him at ther Continental, where I ginerally put up. Heguv’ me ther letter, and a half-dollar fur bringin’ it. I was ter guv’ it to nobody but Miss Sally Mark, down at Patsy O’Neill’s,” The girl was evidently deeply interested in this story, which Joe so glibly invented. 4 Why, yousaid out there it was for the ‘ Cap- tain.’’ ** That was all a blind,” answered Joe, with a wink. ‘‘Wasn’t goin’ to let out afore them coons that a handsome gent was sendin’ you let- ters.” ‘*Good for you, my boy! you young rascal!” ‘*T kin git it ag’in. Tl guy’ Billy my half- dollar fur it, if I can’t lick it out o’ him.” ‘* Pll give you a dollar if you bring it here be- fore night.” ‘** You'll see me, if it’s in ther wood.” ‘See here, my boy; if you don’t get it till to- morrow you won’t find me here. By the way, what sort of looking man was it that made you his messenger?” ‘A prime ’un, you bet! Dressed as gay 4s a duke. Had long, black hair, and ther purtiest curled moustache you ever. see’d. He was a tall, slimish chap, an’ looked as if he’d eat noth- in’ but pound-cake all his life. Where am I to come then, to-morrer?” The girl was evidently interested and excited by this description. She hesitated a moment, and then answered in a low voice: **Come to Spruce street. It is a Mrs. Bradford lives there. I am going there on a visit to a friend of mine. You ask for my friend and I will come down, Don’t give the letter to anybody else.” ** All O. K.,” answered Joe, friend’s name?” ‘“'Miss Laura Murray.” ‘* Then, good-by. I’m goin’ fur Billy.” He had to get out of the house, or something would have burst inside him. The game was playing into his hands so neat- ty vad it was as much as he could do to contain mself, But you've lost it, ‘* What is vour e Chain-Lightning Detective. ee @ ey ee —EE ‘*P'm to ax fur Laura Murray, an’ you'll come down,” he said to himself, on reaching the street. ‘‘It kinder strikes me as you have ‘come down’ mighty lively. I knowed_ that handsome moustache ’dfotchher. *Tain’tmany gals kin stand that. Lawsee, hasn’t it panned out lovely! So she’s goin’ ter plant herself on Mrs. Bradford as Laura Murray! Hand-bag, papers an’ all! It’s a mighty sweet game as it stands, but Jubilee Joe holds a trump hand in it. Now, ther next thing’s ter interview ther real Laura Murray, if it’sin ther wood. She’s got to come outer that Locust-street den somehow, if I have ter snatch her off ther roof, an’ take her up in a balloon.” He walked along the street, busily cogitating what to do next, Little did he think that a spy was on his track. CHAPTER VII. [BY FRANK DUMONT,] IN THE TRAP. JUBILEE JOE turned out of Bainbridgeastreet and rapidly passed through a narrow alley in or- der to reach South street, He slunk into this narrow alley to avoid pur- suit, for several of Patsy O’Neill’s loungers came to the doorway of the rum-mill and gazed after him as he passed out. He was not quite sure that his visit had dis- armed suspicion, and he took this precaution to leave the vicinity of O’Neill’s mill as rapidly as possible, Crossing South street he plunged into Gillis’s alley, and then passed through Lisbon street to Sixth. This part of the city is given up entirely to the poorer Classes, and the tumble-down rookeries shelter both the deserving poor and the skulking criminal. It is at night, however, when the slums of the great city become dangerous, and the inmates, oe huge spiders, await the approach of the és fly. Jubilee Joe passed along, fairly stepping over swarms of children, white and black. and dodg- ing energetic Hebrews who fought to secure his custom in the second-hand clothing line, It was while gazing into the windows of a lit- tle shop filled with bric-d-brae of old hats, boots, carpenter’s tools, clocks, and a thousand other articles of little value, that he formed a faint outline of his next move, It was to loiter around until dark, and then boldly enter the Locust street den »nd look for the true Laura Murray. ‘* Mother ” Hickley was known to him as a vi- rago who was feared by the dangerous classes, and who was the reputed ‘‘ fence” of Philadel- phia burglars. It would be no easy matter to enter her den and have an interview with Laura Murray. Thus thought Joe, as he gazed into the Jew’s window. ‘* Pll do it!” he said aloud. ** Dot’s right, my tear,” cried a little squeak- ing voice at his side; ‘‘ I know just vot you vill do, I can read it in your eyes, You vant to steal dot burglar’s tools in de vindow!” Joe turned and almost cried aloud with min- gled joy and surprise. A little, hook-nosed woman With a pair of glittering eyes stood be- side him, and he recognized the features at once, ‘** Mother’ Hickley!” he gasped. ‘Yes, my tear, Everybody calls me_ their mother, because I am a good mother to those I like, Ah! many a good little poy has become rich and famous because I vas a good mother to him!” : Jubilee was perfectly dazed, and for the mo- ment speechless. The very woman he was thinking of outwitting now stood beside him, as if conjured up from the very pavement under his feet! This was a rare piece of good luck, and the cool boy regained his wits renews ‘¢- You vas thinking of stealing dem tools, eh? You vant to go in pizness for yourself, eh? Youre a smart-looking poy. You've got aneye in your head like an eagle. You vascunning as a snake. Ah! J can read talent and smartness in a poy, and I always likes to help ’em along— help ’em along in pizness.” Joe saw through the old hag’s meaning. /She evidently thought he was admiring the iron tools in the window, and his exclamation ‘Tl do it!” had aroused the old wretch’s desire to gain another boy criminal to the number in her employ. ‘* Never mind dose tools,” she piped; ‘‘ I’ve got some good vuns at home. Fine steel and et proved vork,” boo COmIc cS