Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 130 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

a a _~. ae the shrouds, or sand-papering the mast-head in a Tied ‘“*Sand -paper be blowed!” said Dick, contemptuous- ot ‘* You cau’t put that down my throat, And as for them rope-ladders, if them’s what you call shrouds, bet I can run up them faster than a squirrel can run up a gum-tree.’ ith a quick spring from the deck Dick caught the shrouds, and twisting himself around to their outer side he ran up as nimbly as if he had spent his life at the mast-head of a vessel. ** Ahoy! there, you lubbers!”’ he cried, from aloft. “How’s that for a greenhorn’s fingers and toes? What, next? Want me tostand on my head on top of the mast?” “T want you to come down from there!’’ shouted Cap. Parker. ‘‘The venturesome young would do it,’ he said to Turner. ‘sly I shouldn’t like to dare him too far,”’ replied the tter. Dick caught a rope and slid rapidly down, disdain- ing the slower passage by the shrouds. ‘Guess I could learn, Cap. Whereaway are you B ; ‘* Bosting, hey! Where’s Bosting?” ‘Oh! miles and miles away, over theseas, Further, I fancy, than you will sail this a “Guess so. If I know myself, Philadelphy’s my head center. Don’t want to git oofur away.” For the next hour or two Dick continued to make lf at home on the Molly, investigating every part of the vessel, making friends with everybody, and keeping a keen eye open for any indication of a contraband cargo. And down the broad Delaware the yacht glided, past green shores, and the white lines of a low fort, past the flat, long island of Tinicum, till in the dis- tance rose the roofs and spires of a small town along the river flats, and topping the low hills in the back- ground. mi t do you call that placa, Cap?” asked Dick, with Senovesit: curiosity. ** That is Chester.” “‘Qhester? Yes, I’ve hearn tell of it. "Tain’t much, Goin’ to stop there, a iy Guess so. It will a good place to get rid of you.”’ “ How folks do think elike,’’ said Dick. “I was jist thinkin’ it would be a good place to get rid of you,” ‘* Anxious to get ashore, Dick?” “Kinder. Don't want to git too fur from head- quarters.”’ ‘“* How would you like to stay with us and learn to be a sailor?”’ ** Ain’t I Mem Nog myself enough in that line a’ready? Thought I’d done enough to ‘arna medal orsich. Or a pretty chain like that stickin’ outer _ your vest pocket.” There was hardly the eighth of an inch of the chain in question visible, and Dick’s notion of its beauty ' seemed to be largely guess-work. “Tf you got that you would have medal and chain oe. said Cap, laughing, as he drew the chain from k et. Tiwas a small, neatly-stam bronze medal, the = attached to it being twisted in a peculiarly odd ashion. Dick’s eyes danced as he saw it. Ph, jist the leather medal I've ’arn’d. Let me t on.’ without waiting for an answer he took it from Capt. Parker’s careless grasp and flung the chain round his neck. «‘‘ How’s that for a set-off?’ proudly. es my style of beauty.” He turned eyes carelessly toward the shore. The channel here closely approached the land, and the boat was not two hundred yards from shore, The breeze had freshened somewhat, and she was run- ning rapidly down the channel. Several stone farm- houses rose some distance back from the shore. Chester had now loomed up intoits full proportions, about half a mile distant. Just below them the abet channel of Ridley creek emptied into the ver. ** You have impudence enough to mane you, boy!” growled Capt. Parker, half-angrily. ‘Give me back he medai ”’ ** Not if 'know myself,” sturdily. ‘* You said, out- and-out, that I’d ’arn’d a medal, and guv me this. I think too much of my presents to guv them away 2 ‘You rascally yo villain, what do you mean?” eried Parker, at Sonne to seize him. “Hand it here immediately, or ’ll swear if I don’t cowhide “Got to ketch your rabbit afore you kin cook him,” eluding his grasp. “Tell me of it when you git it back.” ** Blast your eyes!” cried Parker, in a rage, rush- after him. “Stop, or I won’t leave an ounce of “ Guess it ' skin on your body!”’ But Dick did not see the utility of stopping, and a rapid chase began around the deck, the captain swearing with every step. He called on the others to aid + and a general hunt after Dick com- menced. He eluded them for awhile, but it was a that the unequal chase could not long con- ue, Dick was quick to perceive this, and now made a sudden diversion in the pursuit by changing the field of operations. Grasping one of the shrouds, he ran up, hand-over-hand, on its under side, as readily as he had before done on its BORE: ‘*Oatch me who can!’ he sung out, in a minute, from near the mast-head. But he was not to be left long in this fancied se- eurity. One of the sailors ascended the opposite — we = oe — Detective Dick. ee oe a . shrouds, and Joe Turner commenced to climb those on which he stood, two-thirds way up. ‘* Mind your eye, red-head!” cried Dick. ‘* Don’t come too near or my foot mought git lively.” ‘Bring him down here!’’ roared the captain. **T'll be shot if I don’t make him a lesson for all ‘young thieves!”’ Dick looked keenly around. His position was getting too warm for comfort. The two pursuers were erence dangerously near him. 6 light of a quick resolution broke across his face. “Catch your rabbit first, Cap. Parker!’ he shout- ed; “and when you git him you'd best bile him. Basting ain’t good for a tender skin.” There was a quick spring that half-shook Joe Turner from the shrouds; a small, dark body de- scended like lightning through‘the air, a loud splash in the water followed, and Dick disappeared from view. A loud curse broke from the captain's lips. “Quick! To the sheets! Down with your helm! Bring her round lively! I'll be hanged if I don’t run the young hound down!”’ But it took some time to get all hands at their posts to wear ship, and by the time the Molly came round, she was fivo hundred yards away from Dick, who had appeared on tho surface and was swim- ming lustily for shore. For several minutes it was doubtful if he would succeed, The Molly took tho wind on herown quar- ter and camo on at a rapid paco. But tho bottom shoaled hero rapidly, and they were obligod to suddonly haul off when they saw Dick with his foot on thc bottom, ios: than fifty yards distant. With a cry of uncontrollable vaso Cap. Parker seized a muskot and aimed at the boy. Ere he could pull the triggor, howover, the weapon was thrown up by tho han of Joo ‘Turner, “That won't do, Cap,” he said, sternly. “ Murder is a dangerous plaything.” Dick had now gained sure footing, and was wading rapidly ashore. ‘Get out the boat!’ cried one oc. tho ncn; “we can catch him yet.” “You can catch a swallow on the wing!” vas Turner’s observation, as he saw Dick climbing the river bank. “ But we must have that medal back, by hook or crook. Strike quick for Chester, and we will see what can be done. The last they saw of Dick he was standing upright on the bank, his finger to his nose indulging in some odd gyrations. He plunged out of sight behind the bank as the Molly wore gracefully round upon her heel, and re- sumed her rapid flight down-stream. CHAPTER XVII. DICK AMONG THE GHOSTS, Dick's first impulse was to put some desirable at ng between himself and his late friends on the olly, But a preliminary look over the bank satisfied him that there was no haste needed, as the yacht had re- sumed her down-river course, and there were no fears of immediate pursuit. He took out the medal and gazed at it with curious eyes. ‘* Worked a pre raverse on Cap. Parker, I calk- erlate,”’ he thought, as he put his prize carefully mtg ‘I’m ‘feared he won't find it quito so casy to p ay his little game. But, this kind of thing is gettin’ a leetle monotonous. Here lam as wot asa new refine J in, and these durned new clothes are hangin’ as light on me as a stepmother’s blessing. What’s the lay of the land hereaway? Dick stood ina clump of willows near the mouth of Ridley creek, that here made a sharp bend and ran at an angle into the river. Only a short distance to the north stood the low frame buildings of the fishery. Their hauls had been made for the day, and the immense seine not was hung up on its framework to dry, while the fishermen were busy in preparing a great catch of shad for market. ‘*Guess there’s a cook-stove "bout them shanties, I'm gittin’ kinder h for a dry skin, and maybe rw! ll give me the tail end of a br’iled shad to wash own.”’ Dick found no difficulty in getting both his require- ments. His escape from the yacht had been seen by some of the men, and many were the curious ques- tions asked him as he sat before a hot fire. “It weren’t nothin’,”’ pee Dick. ‘“‘Had a few words with a chap there that thinks he owns the sun and moon, and would like to claim a con- sid’able sprinklin’ of the stars. We got kinder hot over it, and he brung out a cowhide for his end of the argyment. Now, that’s a kind of argyfyin’ that ain’t got no good logic in it. Struck me it werea good time to come ashore—so I come.” Dick closed his lips as if he thought he had been unusually profuse in explanation, and that further words were quite unn , The grate warmth of the stove drew clouds of steam from his drenched clothes, and he sat toast- ing himself with deep @fjoyment of life, while a kind-faced old fisherman put the half of a shad on to fry for him. “*] judge you're hu ,”’ remarked the old fel- low, as he sprinkled the fish liberally with salt. “We've got our insides to look after as well as our outsides. You’re mighty young fry to be knocking arb, I'm + ot rotested Dick, laughing = *m seasoned,’’ protes ug , as he turned another side to the fire. ‘ Had pepper and salt rubbed inter me ‘fore I war old enough to know beans from pumpkins. Guess I can hoe my own row.” ‘**You’re a cute one,” acknowledged the old man, ‘“‘and a well-built ehap, too. Wouldn’t you like to 13 -_— as = mee eee - aero -—- ---~ take a turn at the net? It’s good pay, and plenty to eat.”’ “’RKeared I mightn’t like fish for a steady diet,” demurred Dick, as he cut into the well-cooked shad, which the old man had just placed before him, ‘It's ood though, when a feller’s been brung up on thin ivin’, Whereabouts are we here? hat’s that place down the river?” ‘*That’s Chester.”’ “Chester, hey? It’s a sizable village. Fine country ‘bout here, I reckon?” “Yes, very good. The Effinger farm, across the railroad there, is a first-rate one.” Dick looked out the open door at the men who were busily engaged with their scaly and shining harvest. Some distance away, though not far back from the river, stood a white stone house, that had about it an unmistakable air of desertion. “That a farm-house?’’ asked Dick, as he turned to dry the few remaining wet spots. ‘Looks as if the ae, weren't to home.”’ “The family there don’t need shut windows or hot fires,’ answered the old man, mysterionsly. ‘ Hot nor cold don’t hurt them.” ! ‘““What do you mean?” asked Dick. “Nobody ever saw them, but many has heard them,”’ was the reply. ‘‘ Ghosts keep that house.”’ “Ghosts!” echoed Dick, hands and eyes uplifted in wonder. ‘ What, real hobblegoblins? Wellers that kick around the world with nothin’ on them, not even flesh or bones?”’ ** Just that kind.” ‘*Welll” cried Dick, with a long breath. ‘Tell me all about them. If there's safer like it’s hosts. Sooner have a ghost any day than catfish or i ‘* Think I’d sooner have catfish.” “But what kind of ghosts? White fellers, or them ypu can see through, or them that takes it out in kicking up tantrums, and never shows their- er, I'm an epicure in ghosts. Don’t like sorts.”’ “There hasn't nobody never seen them,”’ declared the old man, solemnly. ‘All there is is footsteps, and slamming of doors, and such like. And when you follow them up-stairs they’re kicking up the same row down-stairs before you could say Jack Robinson. Parties have gous there to stay all night and find out all about it; but I notice they've all got business home before morning.”’ ‘Nobody live there?” | ‘Live there! Ibet not! The ghosts has got hold, and nobody cares to dispute their title.” **'You ever been there?” “*T ain’t taking none of that provender, boy. The world’s enou 0 © © § 0} ld's big gh to hold me and the spirits too; but there ain’t no house big enough to hold us both at once. I’ve seen lights and heard voices about the old house. That’s enough for me.” ‘““When? Late at aight?” “Yes, always after midnight.” “T dunno,” observed Dick, rising. “I dunno, but as long as ghosts kin crowd inter keyholes and such and don’t take up no room, I don’t see why me and a houseful of spirits can’t crowd in together. Guess Vl go over and see if any of the folks is to home now. Pein 7! over there?’’ exclaimed the old man, in rm. - ‘*What’s to hinder?’ demanded Dick, coolly. 1s = they’re all in their coffins this time of day, anyhow. And if they bbe ip what’s the odds? Of’en heered of ghosts skeering folks. Never heered of them hurting folks.” “But you ain’t dry,” insisted the old man, nerv- ously, y bry as pine wood that’s been a month + returned Dick. ‘“‘Now don’t you be a-worrtitin’. I’ve eat your shad, and stewed ‘longside your fire, and I ain’t going back on you by lettin’ no critter without bones and muscles git the better of Dick Darling. I'll put myself ag’in’ the biggest shadder as ever kicked up a botheration, and you kin bet odds onme. Good-day, and much obleeged,”’ “Oh! you're highly welcome. You're a s little fellow, and I'd like you to keep out of harm.” “Why, bless your eyes!"’ averred Dick, *‘ I've been stewed, fried, roasted, and fricaseed, been blowed up with gunpowder, and tumbled off a shot-tower been through fire and water more than eee got fingers and toes, and I’m not the chap to be skeered outer my seventeen senses by none of your country- bred ghosts. Not me, Dick Darling.” And Dick walked off with a Samy pm independ- ence that caused him to be follow th admira- tion by the eyes of the fishermen. Straight to the old house he went and disappeared within its portals. A dozen eyes followed him there and several dozens of comments upon his youthful bravado succeeded. But with the most sublime indifference to their opinions, Dick commenced his investigation of the haunted house. It had been 2 gc A a stone farm-house, the walls substantially built, and the woodwork yet resisting the action of time, though the rains through the open windows had ridged and mil- dewed the floors, and frescoed the walls with count- 4 Me icked his ly th | e boy p way gingerly over the wet and slippery floors, passing through empty room after maak with nothing out of the ordinary anywhere visible. “A high old shanty this to get up a ghost sto on!” decided Dick, uplifting his nose in contemp “The idear of a sperit comin’ all the way from t’other world to e boardin’ in a rotten old crib like this! Don’t stuff none of that down my throat. ae. Parker didn’t come here for no sich ridicleus b . : sd | JOOKS EoOmiile o a a = S . - ae + ee eee : _ a *- er ee a ee P ————eee oe oe . _— —————— « ~ eee eee — a » il — ee — — —- = | 1 ~ €om