Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 130 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

ha ~ OO Oe ee wee we ee eee Fe ee ms mee tee eee —_ —_————— rooms above. They seemed to leave the house with reluctance, as if their search had not been complete. Nor had it been, for light steps echoed their heavy ones, and boyish eyes peered curiously through one of the open windows after the departing men. “Call round this way when you come back again,"’ cried out Dick, mockingly. “If I ain’t to home I'll tell the folks to treat you well—to hot water and pitchforks, Let’s see, that’s Cap and Bricktop, sure enough, who's t’other? A_ well-built chap, good- looxin’, black mustache. Wonder if it ain't the critter that sent the express package?” Dick’s eyes continued to follow them, until they were out of sight from his point of view Good-by. ® you ag’in to-night,’’ he said, with & courteous wave of the hand. “1 won't go back ou {20 ‘pointment, if you don’t.” As if thinking that he had had enough of the haunted house for one day, ho mado his way out. Dick made his way to the ere ange et where he found the men through with their = dag labor, and about partaking of their evening meal. ‘‘ [hops you put away the balance of my dinner,” called out Dick to the old man who been so iriendly, ‘* Come back to finish it.” “Tvoa notion you pus it away yourself,’’ and the old man gave a hearty laugh. “No matter, wo’'ll ive you a fish-bone to pick. You were in the old house?” ** Guess I were.” ** See or hoar anything?” Thoy cll looked up with interest for the answer. Nothin’ but moldy walls and rotten floors, dead carrots and cabbago in tho cellar, and not the whisk ot & mouso’s tail about tho houso to skcor oven & cat. 16's jist the bicgest sell of a ghost’s country seat I ever run across," Doa’t oxpect to see anything there by daylight,” added another of tho mon, ‘Como at night, say ubout midnight, and scoif there won't be enough to taics the links out of your hair,” right. That’llsave combin’. Mebbe I'll try it on, Like to soo a first-class, prime, A No. 1 chost. Bot Td havo him bottled up in lavender and showed round for a curiosity. Wore that the sup- por-bellI heered? Yes, I’j draw right up.”’ The rough fshormen wero amused at Dick’s free nnd casy manner, and at the fresh flavor of his re- marks, They attempted to banter him a little at {26 supper tablo, but soon found that they had the wrong customer to deal with. The supper ended, as all suppers must, and Dick, after @ general good-by, took his departure in the lirection of the neighboring town of Chester, where 48 Spent a few hours investigating the place. Dut alater hour of the night found him wending his way back toward the haunted house, whither we will precede him by a f :w minutes. It was clear moonlight, the fields seemed bathed in ‘ilver, anda rich glow fell upon the rippling waters of the river, Had any of the hard-worked fishermen but turned their eyes in that direction, they might have seen more than one ghosily figure advance toward the old house, and amBpont within its portals, The two figures which last slipped ghostlike iato the okl house seemed rather substantial for wan- dering graveyard sprites, and the tones of their voices had something decidedly human about them. ‘“‘Are the others in?’ asked one, whose voice sounded decidedly like that of Captain Parker, ** Yes; a half-hour ago.” 7. ell, let’s in.” They were now in the cellar, into which the light of the moon dimly penetrated. They moved on into the square offset already men- iloned, within which they disappeared. There was beard a peculiar knocking, and the sound of low voices, Then a creak as of hinges, a quick flash of tht, and all grew dim and still again. ut now a strange thing occurred, that might have alarmed even these ghost-makers, had they seen it. The inanimate things in the cellar seemed suddenly to have acquired the functions of life. The old flour barrel, which had probably lain for years undisturbed and immovable in its corner, sud- denly grew restive, and began to glide, with a slow mown and frequent intervals of rest, across the cellar. _Its motion was between a hitch and a glide, but as silently made as beiitted a decorous old flour barrel. This strange acrobatic feat continued until the whols length of the cellar was traversed, and the dark cor- ner in its opposite apne: | reached. Here it settled <own into its former immobility. Then came a new footstep on the floor above, and a cautious descent into the cellar below. A substantial-looking specter moved quietly through the faint moonlight, and passed with a quick step into the darker alcove of the cellar, in full view o. tle ghostly old barrel. There followed a peculiar system of signals, con- sisting Of successive knocks upon what seemed a hollow portion of the wall, replied to by similar dull- sounding knocks, which seemed to come from with- in the wall, A word was now spoken from within, answered by a password from the new-comer. A creaking sound followed, and the vitalized bar- rel beheld with wooden wonder a portion‘of the stone wall, as it appeared, swing open, orn out a quick flash of light from some secret place within. A faint and peculiar series of sounds were also audible, as the new-comer passed quickly through the opening, and the wall closed and became firm and dark with all night’s gloom again. Something very like a chuckle came from the unseen lips in the comical old barrel, and it sprung into in- stant life, executing a sort of silent war-dance, or oY . _—~- i ee Detective Dick. | what might have been a triumphal waltz, across the cellar toward its old location. lt reached there in less time than it had occupied in its former journey, and now, instead of settling down agatp into the restfulness which should be en- joined by law upon all wrt Mg barrels, it very quietly tipped over, showing the mortal form of a sturdy boy. This individual at once restored his temporary habitation to its former position, and then began a very cautious movement toward the ccllar stairs. He soon gained the bottom of the a BP which he went until the open air was reached. The boy now circled a uietly around the house, 1 ~" in search of rays o ht from some hidden windows, He then crept with infinite caution through the ag moonlight, poee the body of a tree between imself and the haunted house as quickly as pos- sible, and not until he reached the railroad ridge at a considerable distance from the deserted mansion he pause. Then a ringing laugh came from his lips. . If this ain’t a night’s work that’s worth a leather medal, then sell me for a king crab!" he ejaculated. “Tve got them. They're jist like a skeeter be- tween my thumb and finger, and if I don’t squeeze the song out of them, then there's no such things as rats. ant Williamson to get in the trap first. Ain’t satisfied with the mice while the rat's out, Bet I 'stonish Ned Hogan, and circumflusticate the two overnment chaps! Talk about your detectives— ick oe don’t back down from the best of them."’ And with frequent bursts of laughter Dick made the best of his way toward Chester, CHAPTER XX. A MEETING ON THE STAIRS. “One moment, Miss Andrews,” called Harry Spencer, as he quickly followed her from the room of the detectives. “I shall not detain you more than a minute. But I must speak to you. She turned a somewhat fearful face toward him and said: ‘** Perhaps itis not best, Mr. Spencer.” ‘*And why not? Youdo not believe me criminal?" 3 rsh was I rtm <— are rk ri tis ome into the parlor a moment,” he , taking her irresolute hand. Helen’s fingers rested softly in his close grasp as he drew her forward to a seat on the sofe, finding no room for himself except very near her. She quietly withdrew ber hand as she queried: ‘*And now, Mr. Spencer?” “Ts it fair to ask what your errand was with the officers?”’ ‘*T would rather not refer to it.”’ “It concerned me, I know. You wished to in- quire about me, you could have had no other er- nd. **And if I did? Was it more than friendliness?” She had unwittingly asked a leading question, to which he hastened to reply: ‘Yes, it was more—much more! At least I be- lieve—I hope—why should you interest yourself in me? And that is notall.” ‘“What more is there?”’ **' You would have concealed it from me, but by chance that I heard of it.”’ ‘Of what, Mr. Spencer?”’ ‘Of the fact that I owe my liberty to you,” he cried enthusiastically. ‘“‘I have learned that ioe are the unknown friend who provided my bail. Oh, Helen, can I ever repay you? my music-teacher go to ‘I must be going now, It was **T could not bear to see age she softly replied. r. Spencer.”’ ‘*Give mebnt a moment more. I was unwittingly an eaves-dropper just now. LIheard you speak of Mr. Williamson.” ‘* Yes,’’ she doubtfully replied. ‘Is he indeed my enemy? Why is he so?” ‘**T cannot answer.”’ ‘**I know him well. He is always so pleasant te me. Why I met him but yesterday, and he was as genial as ever.”’ “Then he is a hypocrite!”’ she exclaimed, ‘‘ for he sought to injure you in my estimation. He has spoken of you as—”’ she hesitated. ‘*T’ know what you mean,” he quietly replied. ‘* He refers to a matter which I have had no occasion to mention to you, though I might have been sure some of my kind friends would. lam a ene Miss Andrews, if there ts a shadow of doubt upon my birth.” ‘*T know it!” she hastily replied. ‘I know it well. Far be it from me to permit that to influence me against you. Worth, with me, is better than birth.” Her Boas disclaimer gratified him. ‘“Mr. Williamson is a suitor of yours?” ‘* Yes,’ was the reluctant reply. ** Not a favored one?” ‘*You are asking too much, sir.”’ ‘‘ [ know he is not,” was his eager rejoinder. “TI know it is jealous spite that is influencing him against me. He knewof your lessons withme. He knew—”’ he paused irresolutely, then quickly continued, ‘** He knew that I loved you! But I cannot help saying that I love you—love you with aes fiber of my be- ing, every pulse of my soul! And if the prison cell should await me I would go there with you in my soul, yielding the luster of a heaven to the bavest dungeon walls.” She made no answer, but suffered her hand to rest in his forseveral minutes, her face pale and with a ' seared look, Then an expression of resolution came upon it, and she firmly said : ‘‘ While your foes are striving to crush you is not - @ 4 . ~ (15 the time for your friends to desert you. YesI can- not speak now. I can only ay that I am not deeply offended at what you have said.” She rose and quietly departed, he acco her to the door with a face of supreme happ But we must leave Mr. Spencer for the present and return to the parlor where Mrs. Milton has just an- yr herself to ay two ye whe ey were somewhat startled on discov their lady-visitor was, epg a ae as Magen Bats occurred to their minds how illy prepared they were with the information she was likely to desire. “I did not suppose that you would know of my in- quiries,"’ stammered Will Frazer, ‘or that you would come to Philadelphia on so ne a hope.’ **T would go to the ends of the earth on as slight a en she responded, with deep feeling. “I heard of the rt tata that were being made. I made your agents te urpose. I learned from them that the by you, and that they personally knew nothing. There were hopes of the recovery of my dear, lost son. Ob, sirs! can you wonder that I hastened here? I that love him with a Seem love! 1 that have mourned him as worse an r Her voice shrilled and trembled with the strong feeling that moved her; her eyes looked up with the most heartfelt oe ry to the officers. Jack Bounce twisted himself uneasily in his chair. “I wish we could help you, madam,” be blurted a hastily. “I wish we knew more concerning your oss—”’ ‘**But you know something? You can help me to some clew?"’ was her eager interruption. Will Frazer east a look of angry warning at Jack, as if he would have said: ‘You are entirely toe communicative. You should have helped me work up this case and made what there isin it.” ‘““We are wor in this matter for another arty,’ he declared. ‘You must be aware, Mrs. ilton, that the story of your loss has been widely known. There may be many seeking to take advan- tage of your desire to find your lost son. most tive evidence should be accepted.” ““I know that,’’ she somewhat impatiently an- swered. ‘* The efforts you speak of have been mada And yet I have a feeling, an impression, that this time the true claimant will arise. The very air seems to me full of the presence of my lost son. I know that he is to be restored to me.” ‘“*T sincerely hope so,"’ said Jack. ‘I am hg to ne- i me their were employed following up impressions. It is never safe giect them. ‘But you have yet told me nothing. You know something. Oh, sirs, do not keep me ins ‘ws ‘** Yet we shall have to ask you to wait a few me put in Will, with a sign to Jack, which the latter no eyes to see. “ We are working up the case, We wrote to Boston simply to know if our investigations were worth contin My ‘**Could you doubt it? But you know not hewl loved, how Ihave mourned my son. I am rich, I can well reward those who help me. ‘We are not working for money, Mrs. Milton,” said Jack, in utter disregard of all Will’s looks, * There is a agate who employed us to write that letter. He is not here at present, nor do we have the most remote idea where he is. It may be a week before we see bim. Inthe meantime we are qaite ignorant of his purpose in ee “Is he so secretive?" she asked, disappointed. “He is buta boy. But he is a boy that himself in keeping his own secrets and in ing own pee ‘** And I must wait, then?”’ “Tt cannot be avoided,” replied Jack. { any idea how much the oy really knows. Be kind enough to leave us your address. We willeom- municate with you as soon as we have seen him.” “T am stopping at the Continental. But I shall come and see you every day. I shall not be able to endure waiting to hear from you. Who is this lad that knows so much; and that is able to employ ex- perienced detectives?” The two officers looked at each other, while a comical smile passed between them. ‘You would be surprised to see him,” repos Jack. ‘He is a veritable street gamin. How he learned anything about this matter the Lord knows. But he is just as sharp as a steel-trap, I would rather trust him than most men,”’ “I must wait then,’ she sighed, rising. “I had hoped more from this interview. I hoped too much, perhaps. The ill of a life-time is not to be cured in a day.”’ The old sad lines returned about her emt whence they had been driven by her energy hopefulness. “Be sure we will do all we can, Mrs. Milton,” de- clared Jack, as he saw her to the door, and closed & carefully behind her. Will Frazer’s eyes were full of the fire of vexatéipn, as he looked up at his quiet-spoken associate. “Well, I never saw you display such lack of mother wit before,” he angrily exclaimed. “A case this, that might have had hundreds of dollars in it, thousands, perhaps; and to be flung away by the sharp-wit Jac ‘Bounce, as if it were an appl woman’s trouble. “There are emotions and misfortunes befere which even a detective must grow human. Before osee. 8 myself be anything more than fuily honest with that poor mother, with twenty years of mouwnn- ing for her lost child, worn like a cloak of sadness about her, I would jump into the Sehuylkill, and put “ Nor have an end to Jack Bounce, at one bounce. That is my answer, Will.”’ Will bad no answer to make, but seemed full of deep thought. Meanwhile, Mrs. Milton went slowly down-stairs. Goim cS (E] ON OVO)