Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 152 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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himself heavil oO entirely in the dark. The thieves, whoever they em = mighty skillful. Not a trace of them can be ound.”’ “T have read something about it,’ said Pierce, carelessly. ‘‘Butas I belong to the blessed ones who have nothing to steal burglary don’t interest me,” “We householders are not quite so comfortable,” rejoined Ben. “They went through a house up senth street last week, and made a happy haul. For them, I mean, not for the poor victims.’ “T hope they will keep clear of Wildflower Hall,” remarked Will. ‘* 1s that the Falls villawe ahead?” “Yes,”’ said Pierce. ‘Bend to your oars, my jolly boys. I have fatigued myself enough in your serviee, pulling this heavy rudder right and left, while you have been enjoying yourselves at the . IL claim my reward now in catfish and coffee.” It was not long afterward when they found them- selves by the river wall of a hotel whose grounds extended to the stream. And, ere many minutes more a smoking dish of the appetizing viand for which the “ Falls” are celebrated was on a garden table before them, flanked by steaming cups of nt coffee. tfish and coffee, under the shade of giant wil- sy and in the mild twilight of early autumn, with the low rippling of flowing waters and the soft breath of south-west winds as accompaniments, form a combination not to be despised. nd our friends thoroughly mare themselves. “If we only had a few of the fair sex, to give tone to our feast, it would be divine,’ remarked Pierce, as he sipped the fragrant beverage. ‘There is nothi ke ladies’ eyes to give effect to twilight.” “ And catfish,’’ supplied Will, w tha laugh. ‘“ But is it not time we were getting back? I have a jour- ney before me, before I reach home.” Oh! come with me,” said Pierce, ‘‘I will find you shelter for the night, and an eye-opener in the morning.” The moon rode high in the heavens as they rowed back, down the shadowy reaches of the river. CHAPTER IX. A CONSULTATION AND A BURGLARY. “May the fiends fly away with the brute that broke my arm!” cried Mark Preston, with a sudden outburst of anger. ‘ There is blamed little sport in our game if a man has to waste his hours here, while the best bets are making.” He leaned back in an easy-chair, his broken arm in splints, a look of peevish discontent upon his “Oh! you are doing very well,” answered Luke, who stood looking out the window. “The doctor says you may go out to-morrow, if the weather is fine. You will be prime before race day.” “Wouldn’t [like to scorch the chap that run me down?” exclaimed Mark, an evil look upon his face. “Oh! that be dashed! It’s all fair in war,” rejoin- ed Luke. ‘‘ And you are just as well where you are, for the present.” ** How is that?”’ ** Black Bess stock is down, that’sall. You couldn't buck inst it wortha cent. Lam working the field through. The horse is a thunderer, there’s no going back on that. And she is being trained into tip-top condition. I saw her yesterday, all muscle and ac- tion, not an ounce of fat; and she climbed over the track like a bird. They needn't talk about her eres it’s just as old Jake says; she’s got win in r $9 “ Then maybe we'd best buck against Lady Clare, and hedge on Black Bess.”’ ‘““No. The betting fleld is turning in her favor. I have been sowing seed at Mace’s; and some sharp rts have been out looking at the beast’s action, ust take me for it, but Black Bess stock will run like a race-stream before the week's out. You can back all the bets you want against her.”’ Mark sat in silence for a minute. Evidently his thoughts had taken another turn, for when he again spoke it was with a wide cha of subject. “Are you satisfled you can do it, Luke? I will be oo a thousand, the day you put it in my ** Do what?”’ asked Luke, surprised. “ Strike those papers. She keeps them in the desk I told you of. Hang her!” and his voice took a sav- tone: “‘I owe this arm to my effort to get even th her. And that’s not all that I owe Clara More- | I have sworn to match her play with a better ca ” *‘Ob! that’s where the wind’s blowing? I am go- ing to win that thousand. And more, too, if things don’t go wrong. I’ve done worse jobs inside a month, and it will be odd if I drop in this.” ou “But I won't fail. I ain't that kind. The pa- pers— **Hush!’’ warned Mark, the door.” There was a peculiar fumbling, followed by an un- certain kn * Come in!” cried Luke. **Come in’s easy ter say. But how’s a chap to do't, ’d like ter know? ‘Ain't I used out a-tryin’’ Like ter know where's yer latch?" “Old Jake, for a thousand! And drunk as blazes,” Luke, as he flung open the’ door, reveal- “There's somebody at ejaculated _ ing the form of the old sot, who surged with a steg- into the room. correck!” hiccoughed Jake, as he flun into ‘a chair, and sprawled ont well-ven boots éver the floor, “Jist had a snoozer down ter Charley Lloyd's. He's a prime fel- let. He's jist guns, Charley is."’ L Sl ** He didn't kick you out of doors to-day, then?” = 25 SS. Black Bess, Will Wi | mow, an’ mebbe he ain't got the run ° ‘ward squaring of his arms. ee ee ** Like ter see ‘im do’t!”’ cried Jake, with an awk- ‘** Like ter see the man in Darby, or in Kingsess, or in-—” “Why, hang it, Jake, he kicked you out yester- day,”’ broke in Mark. “Yisterdy be fizzled! Let yisterdy take care 'f yisterdy; an’ that's Scriptoor. One day’s‘nough to think on ‘tonct.”’ ‘* How about Black Bess?” asked Luke. “Don't say nary word,’”’ whispered Jake, with a cunning look, and a ludicrous attempt to wink both eyes atonce. “‘Mebbe Jake don't sleep in the hay- the stable? Hush! nary word. It’s all primed.” ‘Look out for old Pomp.” “What! That sassy nigger? Like ter see ‘im say beans t’'me. Lslap his old jaw efshe said beans, d’yer hear that? Old Pomp! Pooh! Much I keer for him!” Jake snapped his fingers in supreme contempt of this antagonist, of whom he stood secretly in intense awe, ‘* Where is Black Bess stalled?’ Jake held up his left hand with the fingers spread, and slowly counted over them with the right, the oo swaying beneath him like a ship at sea as he id so. *One—two—four. No, bla’ me, three. Le’ me see. Sure that’s three?” * That's three.” “Well, s'‘long’s you say so. Could ‘a’ sworn ‘twas four. Three? Yes, reckon ‘tis. Well, the hoss—”’ The sentence was not finished, for the rocking legs of the chair suddenly lost their balance, tipping its drunken occupant onto the floor. Jake scrambled up in intense disgust, and stood looking down angrily etry the chair. * If I thought ‘twere did a-purpose!”’ he ejaculated. ‘* Nice way to treat a gemman. A blazin’ old cheer like that, that’s got hinges in ’ts legs! Shoot yer double-j'inted furn’ture, or any sich new-fangled ‘ventions! Won't squat down on’t ’g’in if yer gim me acow.” “TI hardly believe you would appreciate a cow,” laughed Mark. ‘“‘ Cow’s milk isn’t your favorite bev- erage. But Tll tell you this, Jake. You've got to keep sober till after the race, or I'll serve you worse than Charley Lloyd does.” The old cha p raised his bleared eyes with a look of offended dignity. **S"pose a chap kin take a snoozer when he runs ‘g’in’ an angel?’ he muttered, swaying unsteadily on his feet. ‘* Don’t know as anybody's ’toxicated here. Sure I ain't, anyhow.” “Hold your tongue, you maudlin old villain! Why the drink is oozing out of your finger-ends!”’ said Mark, ortho" & “See here now, once for all, our bargain’s off if you let another drop pass your lips till after the race.” ** Ain’t drunk nothin’ but buttermilk th’ s’mornin’, Sw’ar I ain’t—ye-yes; had one snoozer; ‘knowledge one snoozer. S’pose I kin take a topper-off? [ll sw’ar off for one week if ye'll jist gimme the taste 'f old rye in my mouth.” “Give him a drink, Luke,”’ answered Mark, with a m smile. ‘* And lock him up somewhere to sleep imself sober. I want to have a talk with him when he gets his senses back,”’ ‘Th’ old man’s kinder played out. Was up all night,’’ muttered Jake, rubbing his sleeve across his mouth with a habitual motion. “ Yes; don’t keer, *s long’s you ey a He followed Luke from the room, his eyes lighting up in blissful anticipation of the promised whisky. But leaving old Jake to his drink and his snooze and the villains to their plots, we must step forwa somewhat in time, and to another locality, to follow the actions of two others of our friends. It was almost midnight. From the open doors of the Academy of Music a fashionable throng was rap- idly emerging, the sheen of rich dresses and the flash of jewels glittering brilliantly under the cluster- ing ghts, e opera of Faust had just ended, and a crowded audience was rapidly making its way to carri and cars, eager to get home to dreams of the divine music to which they had just listened, One couple separated themselves from the throng and walked pay up Fifteenth street to a not confectionery establishment in that locality. “ We are ahead of the crowd. is some com- fort,” said Will Wildfire, for it was he, “ We will have a chance for our ice without a freeze in waiting for it. The night air is nipping. Had you not bet- ter draw your shaw! cleser! “Oh, no! I am not at all cold,” replied Clara Moreland, his companion, ‘“ Who could be, after the music of Faust? hy, I feel warmed through and through by it.” “Tt cert ainly don’t have that effect on me,” laugh- ed Will. “Ithink you need an ice. Let's trip along, for they are crowding on our track,” Clara’s face was warm with joy and enthusiasm as they sat together. in the restaurant, which speed- ily’ filled with people. It was not alone the music which thus animated her, The happy light in her eyes had a deeper source than this. dit was not without its reflection in Will’s eyes, which he could not help but fix upon the charming face of his beautiful companion. more than a half-hour had passed ere they left the able. Ys “Ldeclare I did not know it was so late!"’ exclaim- ed Clara, looking at her watch after they had ob- tained a seat ina late car. ‘Why, it will be past one before we reach home,” a ‘You can sleep the later in the morning,” answer- “Heigh-ho! I hope those burglars who have been so busy lately won't take the opportunity to rob ldfire’s Racer. es ~ — SS ee ° — my house, My aunt is hard of hearing, you know; and they might carry off the rooms bodily without her knowing it.” “But your servant?” ‘** You could as easily waken up an oak log. There never was such a sleeper.”’ “Oh! well, it’s lucky you didn’t advertise all thi . If “ee thieves only knew it they might pay you visit.’ Clara laughed, and began to hum an air from t) » opera. Evidently she was in no great dread. It was, as she had said, past one o'clock when thc y reached the street in asm she resided. Will accompanied her to the door, which he ope- ed for her with her latch-key. “Will you not come in for a little while?” she ask- ed. ‘* You must be cold. You were not warmed 1 p like me by the music, you rememberT.”’ “Cold? Ona night like this? And with you fcr companion?’ cried Will, gallantly. “I should be eshamed to acknowledge it.”’ Clara laughed, and slightly blushed. “I did not imagine—”’ she began. She sudden'y paused, holding up her hand attentively. ‘‘ What is that?’ she whispered. Will listened a moment. **Stand here,” he quickly said. ‘I will see.” He dashed into the hail and tack to the rear of the house, whence came the strange noises which bed alarmed them. There was a light burning in the kitchen. The back door sto open. A, quick, shuffling sound reached his ears. Heedless of danger Will pushed forward, throu: h the house and into the yard which lay in the recr. He was just in time to catch a glimpse of a form éis- appearing through the gate. Ere he could reach the latter he heard the quic < sound of wheels. A wagon was being driven cut of the narrow alley which ran back of the row cf houses, “Stop thief!’ yelled Will, dashing forward at t! e top of his speed. he whip was plied on the horse, but he could ret get to ful speed in that narrow avenue, and W !! caught up just as the team was turning into tec wider street beyond. A loud cry of alarm again came from the yours man’s lips. Catching the back part of the lig): wagon, an agile leap, in which his gymnastic trai.- ae oe him in good stead, Jandced him in the ve- ticle. At the same instant the driver sprung out in fro; ', and ran quickly down the street, throwing the rei: s out of Will's reach. Heedless of danger the you: :: man followed him, But the fugitive had too mu: i start, and eluced him by darting through sor shadowy courts. Losing sight of him Will soon gave up the cha: and returned to the street where he had left | wagon. A policeman, warned by his cry had ju stopped the horse. It was a light-built, cover: + wagon, ouly suitable for conveying moderate load: . In afew hurried words Will explained to the gu: r- dian of the peace what had occurred, And it nec: - ed but a moment’s inspection to discover that tLe burglars had been busily at work, for the vehicle w.s half filled with articles of household utility. Leading it back to the house they found the fam y all up, and in intense alarm. Clara presented a very white face as she cried to Will: “They have broken into my desk, and stolen ny most valuable papers! IL would not lose them for t? > world!” “They may be in the wagon,” replied Will, enter- ing upon an inspection of its contents. 1ere was silver ware, clothing, bed-linen, chine, a mixed variety of articles—but no = rs. ‘They are not here,’’ announced , “Something must ‘be done! They must be re- covered!" she excitedly exclaimed, ‘We have the horse and wagon,” suggested tre officer. They may help us to trace the burglars.” CHAPTER X. BLACK BESS AND HER KEEPERS. Oup Pomp was busily engaged rubbing down Bla: ': Bess. She had been out for her morning's exerci», and was warm and excited. The ancient jock: » with his white hair, and the bend in. his shoulde - that arose from long leaning forward over the das: - er, was proud of his charge, a very evident sate - paeee showing itself in his wrinkled and sable fc - ures. ‘‘Hosses, is hosses, I s’pose,’’ he said.“ But co‘ ain’t vas as ebery hoss is a trotter. Mought : « well tell me dat ebery pig kin play eucher. A ho » like Black Bess ain't none of yer common folks: « ! hoss-critters.. Jess look at her eye now!..An’ whir was dere eber such satin as dat skin?’’ He rubbed his wrinkled hands as gently over hes & y's chee’., glossy hide as if he was fondlin while a broken laugh came from bis lips. * Folks say de beis is layin’ heavy ‘gin Black Bess. Lawsee won't dar be fun when she gits on de track Bet dar’s gwine to be some eyes opened, Don't tell me "bout yer oe Clares an’.yer Rovers! I's seen de best step at eber toed de track, an’ I oughter know somefin "bout hoss-flesh.”’ “You seen ole Jake ‘round lately?’ asked Pete, mysterious! , as he looked cautiously about him. Dat ole bloat! S ‘pose I bodder myself ‘bout him? a | much.” ‘ Retnteticeeion Waal soul, eee e antly; “‘An’ you's ferge it a’ready. Ain't he pasmeg 2 “ison Black Bess, or put, her out de race, somehow + 4 “Are you sure of this, Pete? asked Mr. Lloyd, who stood by, “If I thought it was really so I'd put Jake out of the race first, hy breaking every bone in his ugly hide.” 0 )(0)(0) gS <€om (c (E(0)