Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 118 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

. ne i S “Not until John Elkton is fully vindicated,"’ she y replied, ut he will be vindicated. There will not be a shadow of disgrace reston him. This is no reason.”’ ‘It is not your fault that he is not disgraced," she earnestly replied. ‘tI am sure that when the public know how nobly he has acted the disgrace of this affair will be changed to honor. But he has only himself to thank for it,” “I am sorry that you should assume such atone,” he replied. ‘“‘I could not do otherwise than I did. His refusal to explain forced me to this arrest. You must return home Jennie.”’ I have other reasons for not doing so," was her resolute answer, “Other reasons?” r ees ae hinted at somet disgraceful con- nected with me, yet refused to tell me what it was. You must explain this mystery ere I set foot in your house again. “1 wasa and spoke hastily,’’ he answered. “*T meant no mi “That is a subterfuge, Mr. Leonard,” she said, looking sternly in his face. ‘I demand to know to what you referred.” ay AndI decline to tell, It is better you should not ow,” might have been better,” she firmly replie firml “e sé I “had you said nothing. But you should know that half-confidences are always worse than the truth. I cannot and will not rest content under such an im- putation. I must know to what you refer.” ‘You will not thank me for telling you, Jennie. It had better rest in oblivion.” “It shall not rest,’’ she in antly cried. “If you donot reveal this mystery this is the last time I shall ever 7 ee to you. There will be other ways of learning it.”’ “You would force me to a most unpleasant task,”’ he replied. “Be it so, sir. There are certain paths it is best never to start on, for there is no turning back.” ‘You must not blame me for what you force from me!”’ ‘** No, no, of course I will not,” she cried, impatient- ly. ‘Unless you have yourself done me an injury. A that case I will make no promises,”’ ‘*You would oblige me now to do you the only in- ury I have ever thought of.”’ ** Proceed, sir, I can bear it, however severe your revelation mney be.” ie y revelation is simphy, cats, Jennie,"’ said the merchant, impressively. “* You have no claim to the name of Arlington.”’ “No claim to my name?" she cried, clinching her hand on the chair. “You were only an adopted daughter of Mr. ' Arlington’s,”’ he continued, as if in haste to dispose of an unpleasant subject. “Can this be true? Who were my parents?” ** That I cannot tell _ Ky put you hinted at disgrace. There is no disgrace 8.” **T said nothing of disgrace. I simply spoke of its being unpleasant."’ “In what way? There is something behind all this. You would not have made so great a mys- tery of what you have told me, You know more. I demand to know the rest. From whom or whence did Mr. Arlington adopt me?”’ ‘* That is the one matter I prefer not to tell.”’ ‘“*And that Linsist on knowing. You cannot and shall not stop now. You have told too much not to tell all. Whence did I come?” “Since you are so persistent, Jennie, do not blame me,”’ said the merchant, gravely. ‘*He adopted you from the alms-house.’ She gave a quick gasp, as of a person drowning; turned, and walked to the door w.th trembling step In a moment she was gone. It was the hardest blow her proud spirit could re- ceive. Sick at heart she walked resolutely on, spurning the proffered sympathy of Mr. Leonard, who followed her in alarm, But we must accompany the reader to a different scene, That night found Will Somers safely *‘ at home” in the basement of Mr. Leonard’s store, where he had managed to remain without attracting atten- tion. He did not act as on the previous occasion, but hid nimself carefully away in a corner, among the nu- merous heavy cases that covered the floor. Here he awaited developments. The hours slipped by and found Will resolutely awake. Sleep did visit his eyelids once or twice, but could not remain wes with such a pressing weight upon his mind, Yet for a boy of his age after a weary day’s labor, and resting in quiet an darkness, it was almost impossible to resist slumber. After a hard fight, which lasted till late in the night, sleep was getting the best of him, and he was grad- ually sinking into a deeper oblivion than before, when he was suddenly and fully wakened by a pecu- lier noise, With all bis senses on the alert he listened atten- tively. It was the sound of muffled steps, and low, cautious voices, A faint light struck through the lines of boxes and reached his covert eye. There seemed to be two or three persons besides himself. The were evidently acting carefully but hastily. The low, shu steps were incessant. This lasted for fifteen or twenty minutes, during which time Will did not risk raising his head above the boxes. He was well satisfied as to what was go- on. ing § the end of this time the light receded, and tle steps seemed to be going from him. The youthful spy rose, and cautiously followed, taking care that net a sound should arise his movement. ; se —_ Th, oe ’ ~ aa v 7 od . . ib , . , ; 2 ~~ “ Will Somers. The light was turned from him and he advanced in almost total darkness. It glimmered on the head of the sub-cellar stairs, where stood, sharply defined, the forms of two men, Will could scarcely repress a chuckle of triumph as his quick ore recognized both these men. ** Bet there'll be fun to-morrow,’ he said to him self, as he cautiously followed. Step by step he pursued the men, down the stairs, into the sub-cellar. There were three of them now. They were gathered in the corner of the cellar where the fragment of letter had been found. The light faintly shone on several bundles of goo which they were handling. Will did not ven- ure to advance, but remained in the darkness while some hasty evolutions were proceeding. But what was this? The goods had disappeared. One—two—of the men were gone. Only the third remained, Will pushed more boldly forward. He had seen aman disappear in almost the same spot on the former occasion of his cellar adventure. He had failed then to penetrate the mystery. He was de- termined not to be foiled now. The light had gone. Only a faint glimmer re- mained. This, too, disappeared for a moment, and Will drew within a few feet of the mysterious spot. The light again shone and at a flash the secret lay revealed before him. It shone from the neighbor- ing cellar, through a hole quite large enough for a man to through, Thro hole the men and goods had passed into the cellar of the next- door store. While Will stood looking in admiration at this contrivance two e stones were pusher back into the hole, fitting it closely, and leaving Will again in darkness, But mentally a new light had broken upon him. “It’s a good dodge, but if you ain’t sold I'm a Hoosier!"’ was his only remar CHAPTER XXII CAUGHT IN THE ACT. Tue stores of Mr. Leonard and of Brown and Fel- ger opened upon a narrow street, deserted at night save that occasionally a passing policeman gazed down its dark depths. On the night of the robbery, however, the three men Will had seen stood Conv armng ust inside the rear door of Brown and Felger’s establishment, the door standing ajar. “Don’t move till near morning,’’ said one of them, cautiously. ‘‘The police may have been warned, and we will need to be wide awake. Wait till the milk-wagons and market-wagons are on the street.”’ “All right. Joe can play butcher,” was the re- ly. By We will have to leave Leonard alone for a good while to come, after this pull.” “TI think we had Demh Pe our addresses next to our stool-pigeon here. e have made enough off of your boss. e ought to ENS Powers's friend a good wakener, and then subside.”’ oo enough to think about that,”’ said the th **T will be off home now,” said the first speaker, ‘“*and leave you two to finish the job.” The door was closed behind him as he left the store and carefully made his way along the street, seeking the deepest shadows, and keeping in close to the houses. He ng a out more boldly after he had reached a main street. Late as the hour was, the street was not quite deserted. Af w people were moving. One of these, in fact, was moving quite closely be- hind the burglar, and seemed to be following him. The latter was utterly surprised when a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice. sounded ear: “You are my prisoner.”’ ‘* What does thismean?” he cried, round in great indignation, ‘‘ Who are you that mo- lest a quiet traveler on the streets?”’ ‘** Save all that,’ said the other. “I know what! am doing. You had best walk along quietly if you know when you are well off.” *T will do nothing of the kind. By what right do you assault me?” “By this right,’ said the other, displaying the brass star of a policeman. “And by this ht,” showing a pistol. “You are ening a grand mistake, my friend," said the burglar, quietly. ‘I can soon satisfy you who I am.”’ ‘*Come along now, and save your breath,” said the officer, sternly. ‘‘ You can explain to the alderman to-morrow who you are. I know what lam doing, we Be going to put you in safe keeping for to- night.”’ e other continued his remonstrances, but was forced along by the officer, who still held him by the | shoulder, a refused to make any further reply to remarks. as they neared the station-house, the prisoner said: ‘* This mistake of yours is very annoying tome. I would rather spend considerable money than be dis- graced by being locked up inacell. I will make it worth your while to let me go.” “‘T have been a policeman five years and have not been bought yet,’ was the indignant rejoinder. “You can’t buy me. Another thing, don’t think that I am arres you at a venture. I know just who you are and what you have been at to-night. I have been on the watch for you since dark.” The prisoner, with a sudden, pallor, looked nervously around. He seemed in to at t an escape. But his vigilant was too awake that. In five minutes he had him within \ 7% ‘ aad iF : mes . * * ‘ + ,. =f me the strong walls of the station-house, and safely locked up in a cell, ‘**That’s one of them "ee e said. , Daylight was faintly showing in the east, and the occasional rumble of wagons had been fur some time audible in the streets, when a light team stopped at the rear of Brown and Felger’s. Yor ten minutes the driver, and the two persons inside this establishment, were busy in removing rolls of goods to the wagon. Then the door was closed, a key turned in it, and the driver and one of the burglars entered the wag- on, which drove ip The bearer of the ey moved hastily fiom the lo cality, in the opposite direction. But their retreat was not effected so easily as the had anticipated. The pedestrian met the fate of earlier companion, by feeling a hand upon his shoulder, hearing a voice at his ear. The men in the wagon tried to ride over the offi- cer, who suddenly clutched their horse by the head. But he held on i and two more strong po- licemen sprung into the wagon, making them pris- oners. Inside of half an hour the three men were locked up iv the same station-house which had been graced | by their comrade for several hours, The w hey: its spoils, was drawn into the yard of the po Mr. Leonard was at once sent for, as also the mem- bers of the firm of Brown and Felger. They had been on the alert, and were at the station-house be fore seven o'clock, ‘“Have you any witnesses whom you desire ane present before we hear these prisoners?’ asked police magistrate in attendance. ‘* Here is my peep witness,’’ said Mr. Leonard, 8 as Will came in with usual easy swagger. “ officers who made these arrests are also important > I would like to have Mr. Wilson here, i witnesses. we have time to send for him.” “T have thought of that,’’ said the alderman, smiling. ‘‘ Mr. Wilson will be here.” A of delight came upon Will's face at these ords. **'We had better pronesc, then,” said Mr. Brown. ** Officer, bring up the prisoners.’ In afew minutes the four men so lately captured were ushered into the room, ‘*Mr. Wilson!” cried Mr. Leonard, in utter aston ishment, as he gazed on the pallid face of his confi. dential clerk, foremost among the prisoners. ‘* Jesse Powers!"’ cried Messrs. Brown and Felger, in a breath, and with equal astonishment. ‘**Black-eyed Joe, the grog-shop keeper, and Tom iinn, one of the worst burglars in town,”’ cried ill. “It’s a pretty good haul,”’ ‘* But what does this mean?’’ asked the merchant, ina breath, ‘There is some mistake here,” “There isn’t as much mistake about it as you could cover with your little finger,’’ said Will, ing to the shrinking figures of the prisoners, “TI could have told you three weeks ago that Gus Wil- son was the man who was goin’ through you. Ihave these other chaps nailed, too. There’s more of the ars age “This is astonishing,’’ said Mr. Leonard, “I trusted that man as I trusted myse 7 | were taken in the act,’’ said the officer. w a The i Mr. Fitler now made his appearance, as also Will's Sriend, oe the bootblack, whom he had notified tobe present. The magistrate prnceates to take evidence . the prisoners, but contented himself with t of the officers who had captured them, of Will, who recognized them as the men he had seen in the cel- lar, and the silent testimony of the rolls of cloth, which were brought into the room and identified by Mr. Leonard as his own property. The four men were formally bound over for age and retired to their cells, glad to escape the fire accusing eyes. The sudden ending of their career of villainy was a terrible blow to the two principals oe me robbery, as their pallid, haggard features tes- “This evidence is very conclusive, said the magistrate, ‘“‘so far as this single robbery is con cerned, I presume you have other evidence relating to the past burglaries?”’ ‘*T have evidence that Jesse Powers was co with the custom-house robbery, as with f my name at the bank,’’ said Mr. Leonard. “Do you Si aa recognize that handwriting?" he asked, anding the scrap of letter to his neighboring merchants. “J. PP.” said Mr. Brown. “It is undoub Jesse Powers. Who would have dreamed of that man being such a villain? I hope he has not bean victimizing us in like manner.”’ ihe are sate nee said the wa ig bi ge used your place as a © passageway for the re- moval of Sods from Mr. Leonard's. He and W between them have managed to remove those stone: in the wall, and make an unsuspected passage. your lower cellar much used?” ** No, scarcely OF said Mr, Brown. y “They could easily then hide their work, b: the cracks of the stones with dirt after eac ra. tion. I have seen the stones this mo x y are slanting and form a kind of dovetail into the wall, A wider stone above keeps the upper wall from falling.” * Could have told you their said Will, ‘‘ only I wanted to nail into the cellar once before, the night 1 counted them Milton cloths, That’s why I was so particular about counting. I seen some chaps at work that night, Fo them down stairs, slip afore 1 co track them. nothing til I another show at them. eaen Week ” want to say (E em. I was locked Dares me the Cs