Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1128 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

: ——————— ee af | _ -~ oe - { | . ‘ a - ; a OS ae ae ao out, and ‘ulian swinging toward the dog fastened it about his 2eck, and two or three of the crew, who had been excited witnesses of the mishap, drew them both on board, where they were received with much rejoicing. Sometime during the night the schooner reached the city, but Julian remained on board till morning. Immediately after breakfast he bade farewell to the schooner, and made his way into South street, looking with amazement at the vast forest of masts and shipping of all nationalities that everywhere met his gaze. Disregarding the many invitations of Israelitish dealers in second-hand merchandise and damaged wares of all descriptions to ‘“‘Schtop a leetle!’’ and come in and purchase, he pursued his cours¢, look- ing for some vessel about to sail for the East. Many of the vessels had placards, or streamers fly- ing, stating they were to sail forsuch and such ports, but he saw none for India. One immense vessel, at length, attracted his atten- tion by its bulwarks being so high out of the water and its bowsprit being thrust, like an inquisitive nose, *way up among the business interests of the street.\ A placard at her fore-rigging was inscribed, in flaming capitals, ‘‘ Up rok HONG KONG AND CHINESE PORTS.” Though her destination was not exactly that for oe poe he was looking, he concluded to go on board of her. Going up the gang-plank at her side, which was al- most as steep as the roof of an old-fashioned house, he found himself on her deck, and saw that her name, like her destination, was Hong Kong. Julian gazed about him with interest. It was the first time he had ever been on board a vessel of her size. In addition to all the appointments of a first-class, full-rigged, clipper-built ship, she carried two brass bow-chasers, or guns, capable of throwing twelve- pound shot. There was also a swivel gun amidships, to carry twenty-four-pound ball—a formidable weapon. Julian sought out the captain, whom he found a worthy representative of his class, and made his in- gquiries, which were briefly answered, and he was di- rected to an India-house, or firm, who were the agents of aline of vessels sailing to india. Julian thanked the captain, and, as he was leaving, he inquired the use of the great guns he saw on deck. ‘To keep off the pirates, my lad,”’ said the captain; “the Chinese seas are not the safest cruising grounds in the word, and we often meet the Malay pirates swarming thereabouts.” Julian thought he would like to make the voyage with this captain, for be had an exceedingly pleasant face, and it seemed to Pulian this was a field in which there might be a chance for distinction as well as adventure in exterminating these whom the captain had spoken. However, it did not lie in the line of his search now. He, however, asked the captain the price of pas- sage to Hong Kong. The captain looked at him with some surprise. “Why, my man, I might take you, always suppos- ing poe parents willing, for one hundred dollars.” have no parents living,” said Julian, simply. “Tf you were only going to India I would go with ou. Ishallsee you again, perhaps,” he added, as 1e took off his hat in farewell, and descended the gang-plank. The captain watched him as he passed from view. ‘* 4 manly little fellow,” he said, * and yet with'some- thing gentle and almost womanly about him. He re- minds me strangely—strangely of one I thought I had forgotten, and who has probably forgotten me. Thope the land-sharks may not get hold of him.” Julian went.at once to the address given him by the captain. ey It was in a solid, granite-looking building opposite thickly dark-hulled vessels of various tonnage. The offices were quite dark within, and were lighted at the back with as. In that locality, it seemed to Julian, the shipping firms must consider gas a cheaper commodity than | ——EEe The Sea Serpent. | bustle and scene of busy activity always more or _ less visible just prior to to a vessel’s departure. While deliberating what to do, he wondered | whether tne, would take him as a saiior or cabin- boy, and made inquiries, receiving the information that they were already full-handed, and in any event he was much too small to go before the mast. He stepped ashore, and as he went slowly up the wharf, he thought probably he would find an India paper at the office of the Punjab, and perhaps thus obtain information, possibly, of his uncle, not oth- | erwise accessible. He returned at once, made known his wishes, and was given copies of the Bombay ZJimes, North China Herald, and other newspapers. He searched them carefully, and pored for some time over the advertisements and shipping-lists, but no such name as Captain Kidd greeted his anxious vision. Going out. of the office somewhat depressed, and | Still wishing it were possible for him to go in some ee _ your money till you get out there, unless other way than as “ gen’l’man passiger ’’—in some capacity whereby he might accomplish his purpose —and keep his money, he had gone but a short dis- tance when he was suddenly startled by being ac- costed with the words: ; ‘* Looking for a chance to ship, youngster?” 3 $$ LT ——- the room, a round table and a few chairs, with one or two greasy newspapers lying upon the floor, | “Here you can make yourself comfortable,” said his employer; “ the dinner will be up very shortly; I will go down and hurry them up; I am getting hun- gry myself,” and as he spoke he left the room. ulian unslung his knapsack, and placed it in the corner. He had only time to take a turn up and down the room, and glance once or twice through the broken | slats, that formed the blinds of the narrow window, . when the man returned. He was followed by awaiter bearing steaks and hot coffee, with the usual side dishes, which bis em- | ployer aided in placing on the table. | slipping away from him. Glancing at his questioner, he saw a/stout, bearded | man, ina half-sailor costume, who was holding his hand out to him. ‘*Going to ship?’ he repeated. “Tf I ean,”’ replied Julian. ‘Where do you wish to go, what port?’ asked the stranger. **India,”’ said Julian; ‘** Bombay, if possible.” “That's lucky,” responded the bearded man; “I | am the captain of a vessel—a splendid craft—and | want a cabin-boy: you are just the chap I am look- | ing for. You paares me at the door of the shipping office. I heard you within making inquiries about a Oo with me and save passage, but you had better ou have more than you know what to do with, which isn’t _ the case, I reckon.” ‘*No,” said Julian, brightening very much under the influence of this timely proposition, and the air of familiar friendliness assumed by the stranger. ‘*No, sir, it would take all the money I have and even some more to pay my passage in the Punjab.” And involuntarily he put his hands to his breast to to assure himself that his mother’s Bible contain- _ing the money, less only the small amount he had evil hordes of | paid on the schooner, was still there. The man’s eyes were watching him like those of a hawk. ‘You have some friends here with you, I sup- pose,”’ he asked, with affected carelessness. No,” said Julian; **I am alone in the world with the exception of my uncle, who lives in India. If you are sailingin an Indiaman, perhaps you have met him out there,’’ he added eagerly. ‘Very likely,’’ said the man coolly; “‘I know most everybody out there. What's his name?” ‘** Captain Kidd,*’ replied Julian. The man started and looked at Julian keenly from | _and fear—a blow, and the treacherous scoundrel head to foot. daylight, for no effort seemed to have been made for | many years to admit the latter. The small windows, having an outlook on a narrow alley, were so incrusted with dust and weather- stains that it was quite evident 4hat the presiding enius of the place, whoever it might chance to be, 1ad never been to look out through them. A high counter surrounded by a narrow railing, with openings here and there, separated the inmates from the outside public. A dingy place enough, thought Julian, and yet, as he soon learned, from this dingy office went forth an influence felt more than half round the world, A wrinkled face with a complexion like musty ep eager below which was only visible a high, lack stock of an ancient fashion, appeared at one of the openings of the railing and signed to Julian to approach. He did so and stated his business. The man with a parchment face referred to a card lying on the desk. “ihe Punjab, for Bombay, sails to-morrow,” he said: ‘‘ the fare is two hundred dollars.” **So much?” faltered Julian, ‘So little!’’ said the man with parchment face immovably. ‘‘ Make up your mind and come again,’ he continued, beni, Be hand for him to give place to some one waiting behind. Julian stepped back. ere was an obstacle at the very i . The passage-money was a little larger sum he could command. at was to be done? He went out and walked toward the wharf where mee Panjab, and went on board. t deck wharf adjacent presented the usual i. i . =" 15 et Ls BD | to-day, but will take you with me to-morrow. Can, meanwhile, stop with me. ys eine joking,”’’ he said, with rather a discordant augh. ‘Oh, no, sir,” said Julian earnestly; “that’s his name.” “Allright, then. But, blow me if I didn’t think of the old pi— but never mind what I thought! I find I don’t quite remember your uncle now, though I must know him, and shall think! It’s such a de- cidedly queer name—smites Smith, and beats Ba- naghar clear out of sight. But, ll remember him soon. Will you go with me?” The waiter disappeared, and the man seated him-- self. ‘Fall to, my lad,” he said; ‘‘don’t stand on cere- mony. Julian was too hungry not to avail himself of the ~ last suggestion, and promptly complied, seating him- self opposite the man. Julian had drank one cup of coffee, and nearly finished eating, when he became conscious of a-~ strange sensation—a sensation as if his senses were In a vague sort of way it filled him with alarm. He attempted to rise, but sunk back in his seat. A He looked at the man helplessly; and in that mo- ment the stranger seemed turned to a serpent, the rlittering eyes of which, to the boy’s fancy, were seekin~ with a dreadful fascination to control his wa z senses. s A voice, barely audible to him, was asking: ‘** Where is your knapsack?” Julian felt mechanically for the strap. ‘* Never mind; I see it yonder.”’ This man was his enemy. A deep sense ef the serpent-like fascination and the horror of his situa- tion was growing upon Julian as this conviction asserted itself, and with all the energy of hés soul, he made an effort te struggle against the helplessness that was creeping over him. ' The man’s glittering eyes were upon him. | The boy again attempted to rise; but in vain. The man seized him by the arm, and with some muttered words the boy could not understand, half led, half carried him to the lounge, and Julian sunk back upon it. His eyes closed. . He was barely conscious of lo fingers plucking at his breast, and a muttered gro like some hyena busy with its prey. ‘‘ Wy mother’s Bible,” he gasped, as he felt it being torn from him. _ And with these words he was dimly sensitive of a terrible crash—a whirl, as if the house had fallen, and all sense of life and light left him. ————— CHAPTER IV. THE RESCUE—CAPTAIN JAMES. Tue terrible crash of which Julian was thus dimly conscious as his senses left him, was caused by the door of the room being burst violently open. There was a rush of footsteps—a yell of wrath bending over the boy was sent whirling against the opposite side of the room, and fell limp and motion- less. For the tide had suddenly turned, and Julian was saved. “Look up, my lad, look up!” cried the new-comer, catching Julian in his strong arms, and bearing him _ to the window, which he threw up for the admission ‘‘T shall indeed be glad to go with you,” said Jul- | ian. ‘‘Is your vessel one of the same line as the Pun- | | jab?”’ the head of a long wharf, around which clustered | The man glanced sharply about him, and up and _ down the street, where they were walking, before re- | | plying, then said, ** Yes.” _“*Where does your vessel lay?” asked Julian, de- lighted at the prospect that now seemed opening. “Over at Jersey City,’ was the response. ‘She | is discharging her cargo. You I have a friend who keeps a chop-house, not far from here, and as I was _ just going to my dinner, come along and I'll show | you where, and you can dine with me.”’ - plied his new employer, an He led the way up a narrow side street down one or two still narrower and further on into one open- ing into a squalid court, with a dingy house at the further end. Not avery inviting place Julian thought, as he fol- lowed his conductor inside this house through a low dirty door, The man seemed to read what was in Julian’s mind, for he said, ‘‘We sailors—here to-day, and away to-morrow, and anywhere next week—are not very articular as to our quarters, but we can get as good inners here as anywhere in this port.”’ There was a smell of cooking about the place, that was rather pleasant to Julian, for with his depres- sion gone his naturally healthy appetite began to wake up. He said as much. “We will have creo apr. to eat immediately,"’ re- opening a side door, and ving some orders in a low tone without going in, be turned and said, “‘Come up stairs. It’s more quiet above.” Julian followed him through a dark, narrow passage, and up a creaking staircase, where the air was filled with stale odors, The room into which he was ushered was rather dark and musty, but a flaring gaslight, which was turned up by his conductor, served to 1 some- what the gloominess. There was a low, rickety lounge in one corner of I am too busy to go over’ of air. But the effects of the drug administered in the boy’s coffee had been too powerful, and Julian did not immediately revive. al His rescuer placed him gently back upon the sofa, threw cold water into his face, and stood looking down upon him with an expression of deep interest, Very easily we recognize him. He was the captain of the vessel for Hong Kong, aboard of which Julian had noticed the brass guns. He had seen Julian, while passing along South street, in conversation with the villain who had brought him here—a man whom he instantly recog- nized by the cut of his jib, as belonging to the class of land-sharks to which he had alluded when Julian was leaving the ship. He picked up Sulian’s Bible, which had fallen from the hand-of the prostrate ruffian. Two or three bank notes of small denominations pee fallen from it, which he replaced between the eares, “IT see,” he said, examining it, “it answers a goathe purpose: a Bible and a bank—Ha! but what this?’ _ He was Px bt it oe in his hands, and gianc- ing at the fiy-leaf. It bore this inscription and a ate: “From Julia Adams to her son Julian, on his tenth birthday.”’ For some minutes he stood looking at the words, as if they possessed a new and strange interest. Could the love of the dead mother for her son have found expression in his glance, it would seem to have been strongly apparent then. ; He placed the book carefully in his pred see and turned sternly toward the corner where lay the fallen miscreant. He made a resolute step toward the open window, and threw back the dilapidated blinds. By what must seem a remarkable combination of circumstances, a policeman was just passing the head of the court and was looking that way. The captain called, and beckoned to him; he ro responded and came up-stairs. P*the man on the floor was beginning to rewvet. “Take this villain into ,”’ sald the capteim; ; . o> - ; ’ aa : 4 fs q ia “ | ‘ | TT 8 YF 4 Se