Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1090 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

8 i ‘* How am J goin’ ter git them? I haven’t got | acent! If steamboats were sellin’ for a cent apiece, I couldn’t buy a gang-plank.” “Tll trust you. You look honest. You’rean honest poy. Atleast you vill pe honest to me. ve got a grown-up. son—not my own son, you know, put an adopted son—and he vill take you in hand and make an artist of you.” ‘Oh! That’s just what I'd hke!” averred Joe, apparently well pleased. ‘I wantito be a good one—I don’t want to be no slouch! I’ve had a rood deal of practice, an’ if I git a good teacher ll bet ’'ll give ther cops some trouble before they ever nip me.” ‘* Vell, I can’t stand here talking to you any longer. Come to my house to-night, and I’ll see vat can be done for you. I live on Locust street | near Sixth—” ‘*T know where it is,” declared Jubilee. ‘' I’ve heard tell of you an’ your home by a feller that shared ther same cell with mein Moyamensing. Oh! he was a fly coon, but they nabbed him at last. He used to tell me all about you an’ your home, an? how good you were to ther gang.” Of course Joe was telling acting on the maxim that *‘ war,’ exploits, and the imaginary thieves who had spoken in such glowing terms of their ‘‘ moth- er” on Locust street. The shrewd old hag seemed) well this flattery, and Joe piled it on thick when he found she liked it. He promised to call that night, and the old aes shuffled away in the direction of her en, Jubilee was secretly congratulating himself over this rare piece of g luck, when a new suspicion dawned upon him. ‘* Mother” Hickley bore the reputation of be- ing the sharpest criminal] in the city, and yet she ae been hoodwinked, to a certain degree, by m, Was she merely pretending? or did she really believe his yarns? Was she seeking to lure him to the Locust-street house? Had she been on his track, and spoken to him Pur DORes to draw him into that den? He asked himself a number of such questions, but failed to find a satisfactory answer. ‘*T’m goin’ in there, though, if I come out of it deader than a salt mackerel!” That was Joe’s final reply to all his mental uestions. He had wished for a chance to enter e den, and the way was now clear for him to doso. The way out was very doubtful; but Joe had decided to go, and that settled every- thing. ‘*Now,” he said to himself, as he sauntered leisurely around, ‘* Tl fool’round down here this evenin’, an’ see ef I can’t find my friend, ther Opera House man, I'll let him think ’m s’prised tersee him; but I’m bound ter have a nigger dis- guise ef it takes my scalp-lock.” Tt was near dusk when Joe reached Chestnut street. He walked toward Tenth, and for a mo- ment lingered in front of the telegraph office. He scarcely knew what to do, in order to kill time, while awaiting the coming of night. His box had been loaned to a fellow artist, and for the present he was out of employment, and ac- tu HY feeling lonesome and impatient. ‘t Hello, Jubilee!” Joe turned and joyfully greeted the new- comer—the very man he wanted to meet. ‘*Hello, Magill! Where are you going?— ‘round to ther Opera House?’ *' Ves, I’ve got to start in on somenew work— new piece going on next Monday night, and ’'m busy as a bee.” Magill was the pi pant di son of Carneross’s Opera House, and one of Joe’s most valued friends. Often he would find a chance to smuggle Joe into the Opera House, either into a balcony seat, or behind the scenes in the capacity of an assistant pro tem. Jubilee Joe was well known to the members of the company as ‘‘ the bootblack,” and was lib- erally patronized by them whenever he solicited trade. The coming of Magill quite pleased Joe, and he accompanied the property-man around to the little Opera House at once, and assisted him in | | itseveral kicks with her thick shoes, and as it the routine of his duties, ‘ | | ] leased at | | hasty survey of t a It was while thus engaged that he slipped a small box of the tack binds into his pocket. Half his object was accomplished. He next “ amused” himself by trying on the different comical wigs. ‘*Don’t touch that wig, on the shelf,” said Magill, pointing to one near the mirror. ** That belongs to Lew Dockstader, and he’s mighty particular about ’em.” ‘* Well, I ain’t goin’ ter eat it~ am I?” ‘‘T know you ain’t going to eat it but don’t touch it.” ‘* Whose wig is this?’ ‘* That belongs to me,” ‘* You don’t act, do you?” ‘* Yes, once in a while [ have to go on.” ‘‘ What do you do? play ther hind legs of a mule?” ‘* Now, look here, Joe; don’t begin any of your funny businessonme. Lain’ta hinglese of-a-mule actor, and you don’t want to get fresh around this place, for we keep a trough full of brine here.”’ ‘* Well, you’d ought ter go an’ bathe in it, Ma- a ‘**whopper;” but, | gill.” all’s fair im love or | he proceeded to tell about his burglarious | Joe dodged a stuffed ham and ran down- stairs, laughing, to escape the irate property- man. ‘‘Say, Joe! come back! I want you!” cried Magill from the window overlooking the alley. ‘* Not this evenin’!—some other evenin’ !—good eve!” shouted the gamin, as he gayly passed out of Theater alley. The mischievous imp had secured Magill’s wig, and had it hiddenin one of his capacious pockets. He had a faint idea that he might need the disguise in the nocturnal adventures about to ensue. The street lamps were being lighted as Joe cabociugeiiens about, anxiously waiting a later our. He consumed several hours in the neighbor- hood of the den on Locust street, carefully not- ing the surroundings. He glided up the alley and scrutinized the back part of the house, but every window-shutter was closed, and the house itself appeared deserted. At last he sought the front door, and placing his hand on the knob, turned it. The door was open. Pic passed into the back corridor, wonderin at the carelessness ‘‘ Mother” Hickley evince in the semi-open door, when—clash! The door slammed shut with a bang, and he heard the click of a spring-lock. The front door had suddenly closed, leaving Joe in the dark hallway. ‘Dis vay, my tear! I left de door open for ou on.purpose!” said the squeaky voice of the ag. ‘I guess de vind vas vat shut it so quick after you came in.” The voice came from the gloom beyond, and as there was no alternative Joe had to proceed toward its owner. He was fairly in the trap. CHAPTER VIII. [BY FRANK DUMONT. } FOILED. A SINGLE ray of light shot out from a door as it was partially opened, and the shadow of the old hag danced on the opposite wall. A moment later her ugly features became vis- ible, and as she shaded the lamp with her hand the dull glare fell upon her shriveled face, and her eyes gleamed like those of a cat in the dark. ‘‘ This vay, sonny,” she repeated. And the boy followed her shuffling figure into the dingy apartment, It was a small room, ea) furnished, and the only light was that given/by the lamp borne by the hag. You Rept your promise and came, didn’t you?” she squeaked. ‘‘ Dot’sa good little poy! Alvays pe prompt in pizness, and you vill suc- ceed.” Joe did not reply. but sat down and took a is back apartment, A round, black object lay in one corner of the room, which Joe at first supposed was a large Newfoundland dog. The old hag approached this object and gave “Tye got to burn some corks, Joe. Do you | unfolded itself into a sitting-posture, Joe beheld | a dwarfish negro of about his own hight. want to help?” ‘* Cert!” Jubilee recognized him at once as the fellow In a few moments the corks were being | he had seen enter the house that afternoon, The charred, and Joe viewed the process of making the thickened black paste for the minstrels to | ‘t black up ” with that evening. He filled the little tin boxes for his friend, and under his directions deposited one in each dress- ing-room, negro yawned, and gradually awoke. ‘‘Vake up! Here is another poarder for our mansion!” said ‘‘ Mother” Hickley, addressing the yawnin poms , Beha sees him, ’m.” The darky told a deliberate falsehood, for he ' tie ww. Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. —_— -~— --- mee ere _ __EE___OOEOEOEOEOOOOEOEOEeEeEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeEee eee eee — > had not yet rubbed the ‘‘sleep” out of his eyes, and did not know he was awake; much less could he see any one. ‘t This little poy is going to pe my new adopt- ed son,” said the hag, with a hidden significance in the words, ‘‘and I vant you to pe kind and attentive to him. Now take him up and show him his own nice little room, and then come pack to me for further instructions.” The darky armed himself with a lighted can- dle, and motioning to Joe to follow, ascended the rickety stairway. Joe mechanically followed his sable guide, urged to do so.by ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s words of assurance. The hag stood at the foot of the stairs and waited until Joe had reached the third story. The negro paused before a low doorway, and thrusting a key into the lock gave it a turn and flung open the door. Placing the light on the table, he allowed Joe to view the apartment. Then suddenly taking the light up, he stepped back to the door, shyt it and turned the keyinthe lock. Joe was secured in the room, and he heard the retreating foot- steps of the negro as he descended the stats, nce he imagined he heard the shrill laugh of the old crone, but he listened in vain for a repe- tition of the sound. A dread silence reigned. Jubilee Joe -was fairly entrapped, without a struggle. He had blindly stumbled into the old fly’s ‘* parlor.” ‘‘ Well, I deserve to git inter a mess of this kind,” Joe thought. ‘‘ No one but a chuckle- head would have acted like I did! Like a gawk, I have come here to take chances without telling somebody whereI was going! But nobody will care about me anyhow, so what’s ther differ- ence? ‘‘ What kind of a ranch am I inter, anyway? I kin feel ther ceiling. I am right under ther roof. Front part of ther house, All ther sbut- ters closed, too. Wonder if there’s a back room? Let’s reek-an-oyster,” Joe began a sort of exploring-in-the-dark movement, and his hands soon came in contact with a door leading to a rear apartment. He tried the door-knob. The door was locked. His fingers wandered a trifle lower, and he felt a key protruding from the lock. A quick turn, and the door yielded to his pressure, and he passed into an adjoining apart- ment. ‘* Who is there?” asked a low, sweet voice. The words thrilled him, and he started back surprised. e had found Laura Murray a captive like himself! It was a strange meeting in the dark, ‘Sh! whispered Joe. ‘Don’t speak ‘loud! Tama friend. Iam a prisoner here like your- self. I came here fer ther purpose of settin’ you free, but they nipped me. My name is Jubilee Joe— ‘Sh! lve gota match in my pocket, an’ rH Hight it. That will give you a chance to see wholam, Only one match, miss, so look sharp!’ He struck the match, and in that momentary flash and feeble light both éaptives gazed at each other, and then gioom prevailed once more, ‘* Now, miss, don’t be afraid ter trust me. I’ve risked my life to enter thisden. You are to be kept here, an’ another gir] is goin’ to pass herself off as Laura Murray. ‘‘ This is all I kin tell you at present. We've both got to git out of this, an’ I’In goin’ ter take you with me.” He felt her hand grasp his, and a quavering voice whispered: ‘‘ God bless you, Joe. Don’t leave me here if you can possibly save me.” ‘‘ Hark!” said Joe; ‘‘ 1 hear some one comin’ up-stairs. Hear th’ creakin’ sound? We must not be found together. They must not dream that I know where this room is, Il go back ter my own, an’ lay low fer ducks!” oe glided back into his own gloomy apart- ment, quietly closed the intervening door and locked it, placing the key in his pocket. He heard footsteps in the room directly uncer- neath, and in a moment a very feeble Jight showed itself through a knot-hole in the floor. He bent down and applied his eye to the srnal! orifice, and obtained a view of the room below, and its occupants, The first person he saw was the shamblinz form of ‘* Mother” Hickley, and the next was Tom Smith, the villain now masquerading as Andrew Allan. Joe saw it all now, and easily -divined the rea- son why he was under lock and key, If he had any further doubts, they were quick- ly dispelled by the following conversation : ‘‘ Did you succeed in getting the kid outof the way?” ‘“ Yes,” answered the hag, ‘“‘ I got him just as comic iy Pa nd a. ; a? a 900ks. \ : ;