Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 187 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

‘Fred Halya prise. He had seated himself here to watch the fame of croquet, in which Rose Darlington and Wil- ur Howard were partners. ** You don’t deserve thanks,” returned Rose, some- what petulantly. ‘‘Itisa matter of such slight im- portance with you to save a person’s life, that it is not worth remembering.” ‘**Oh! indeed, you are wrong!” he earnestly re- plied, ‘* But there has so much passed since, that I (lid not eatch your meaning for the moment.’ ‘You have had your own life to save. And that of many others,’’ she rejoined, ** But, believe me, your life was worth to me that of all the rest. I would have risked mine twenty times Over to Save you.”’ “Now! no compliments, Mr. Halyard!” she an- swered, holding up her finger in admonition. ‘I do not eeree with you in any such idea.” “You do not know your own value,” returned Fred, with a smile. Will Howard made a very bad shot, and missed his ball—it might have been intentionally. He walked quickly over to where Rose and F were seated, g: eeting the latter with a nod so slight that he did not think it worth the trouble of returning. “It willbe your turn in a minute, Miss Darling- ton,’’ he said, in a tone of which the vexation was Uy Late ns ‘I know it,” replied Rose. without moving. ‘“ As soon as Miss Munson rivals the success of your last Will bit his lip, and turned away to hide the ex- Shen pty of his face. His intended reproof had not een at all successful. ‘**Yes, Mr. Halyard, I owe you a deep debt of grati- tude,” said Rose. “I should be sorry ever to forget my obligations to you.”’ ‘TL hope you will not look on it in that light,” re- turned Fred, a flush coming into his handsome face. Will Howard was evidently coe fry vexed. He had turned his back to them, and was involuntarily grasping his mallet as if it had been a weapon. ‘* Miss Darlington, it is your turn,” called the lady vw ho had just played. Rose took her place in the game. Whether or not she wished to reprove Will for his bad playing, she was especially careful, and sent her ball through three wickets ere failing. Iie had taken her seat, and sat moodily scrapin the sand with his mallet. She walked over an stood silently beside him while the gentleman of the other side played, He failed, after a shot or two. “Come, Mr. Howard,”’ called out Miss Munson, petulantly. ‘* You two do not seem to take auy in- terest in the game.” ‘‘Is it my turn already?” he exclaimed, with an effort at gayety. ‘‘ How is a person to get a min- ute’s rest, if you finish your turns so quick a ‘**Don’t boast, sir, you are not out yet,” retorted Miss Munson. Rose reseated herself beside Fred as Will went to the game. She sat still for an instant, and then turned to him quickly, “Is it true,’ she asked, ‘‘as people say, that Mr. Howard took partin that life boat expedition in con- sequence of a quarrel and a challenge with you?” red started, and a look of disapprobation came upon his face. ‘‘That is hardly a fair question, Miss Darlington,” e gat **You gentlemen always make that answer when ou do not wish to say yes,’’ returned Rose. ‘‘I nave a reason for asking, Mr. Halyard. It is not idle curiosity on my part. AndIshould be glad to learn the cause of the quarrel,”’ “It was a mere trifle. Some hasty words only,” replied Fred. ‘I would prefer that Mr. Howard should tell you.” Will Howard was again through with his turn. But this time he did not approach them, or even look toward them. “He was in fault. Iam sure of that.” “There was nobody seriously in fault, Miss Dar- per Ye said Fred, gravely. 6 was again called to the field, and Fred rose and walked Ate He was not pleased with this questioning, And et, after a moment’s thought, he said to himself: ‘Tf she is engaged to Mr, Howard she certainly has a right to know his character. It might have been better if I had spoken ye aM “Fred Halyard! e very chap I was lookin for!” cried Mr. Proctor, as Fred reached the pore of the Mansion House. ‘I have work cut out for you, my boy, if you are ready to undertake it.”’ “That depends,” replied Fred, *‘if lam fit for the work, or the work fit for me.” ; ** Were you ever in New York?’ “No,” answered Fred, looking up with interest, The name of New York had a wonderfully attractive sound to him. “I have been nowhere, except around this country; with some short trips to sea. “Do. you think you could make your way about there? ‘** Nobody was ever lost who knew how to use his tongue,” returned Fred, ‘Except he was in a desert. A man must be deaf, dumb, and blind, to be lost in a city.” “The captain and mate of the Triton leave this afternoon for New York. Atleast they say that is their destination. And, as they have no reason to fancy themselves suspected, it may be. I think it important to know just where they go, who they see, and what they do. And I know nobody wider- oxere than Fred yard for a delicate job of this Fred reflected a moment. He would like to go to New York. But he did not want to spoil . Proc- tor’s plams. He shook his head, doub ’ eee ee **T will never do for that task.”’ “Why not?” asked Mr. Proctor. “They know me too well.” ** You can easily keep out of sight. They will not be on their guard.” ‘“* Well, if you are willing to trust me—” “TI know that you will do it all right,” said Mr. Proctor, enthusiastically. ‘‘I have confidence in your wit, my boy.” **More than I have,” replied Fred. ‘ But I don’t think they will throw me easily. When do they go?” ‘‘In the three o’clock afternoon train. Can you be ready by that timer” “*Ican be ready in ten minutes,’ returned Fred. st hardly think I will take a trunk with me on this r. Proctor Jaughed, and proceeded to go more in- to the details of his project, giving the boy close in- structions as how he was to act. **Meanwhile, we will be at work, here,’* he con- tinued, ‘‘These two men went out for a fishing tri on the inlet thismorning. But it wasn’t sheepshe or trout they were after, I watched them with a lass from the light-house, and they rowed straight nto the inlets, toward the fisherman’s cabin, which you and Harry tracked yesterday.” ‘“*Ha! That is interesting!” exclaimed Fred. *‘ Are you ong to raid it?” “This very night. I only want them to get fairly out of town first.”’ “Don’t wait for night. Delays are dangerous,” said Fred, in a meaning tone. “* There will hardly be anything removed before night,’’ replied Mr. Proctor. “They would not risk moving their contraband stuffs by daylight.”’ ‘**They may,’’ rejoined Fred, with a dubious look. “The fact is, ‘Mr. roctor, lam not quite sure whe- ther I shut that closet door. And my wet clothes must have left their mark on the floor, If the fish- erman has found my tracks it’s my notion there's not a minute to lose.” “You are right, Fred,” cried Mr. Proctor, hastily rising. ‘An hour’s time may save them. Do you get ready at once for vere journey, and I will wake La 4 Harry Bains and crew. It will be our best plan to row over.”’ Fred hurried toward his home, full of boyish en- thusiasm at the new experience before 1 He had hardly known, in his contracted life, what it meant to travel by rail, and cities were to him terra incognita—always excepting Beach City. He was stopped on the way by Mr. Darlington, who engaged him in conversation for several min- utes. As Fred walked on after this interruption he noticed two | pay ores coming toward him, whom he recognized at a glance as the passengers who had been saved from the Triton. He ee them withvut noticing that their eyes were c prety fixed on Mr, Darlington, “*I knew him at first sight,’’ said the father to the son. ** ButI had to play ignorant then. That was hardly the time to request a private interview with my friend, Mr. Darlington,” ‘Are you sure he knew you?”’ asked the son. ‘Tf you had seen his pale face you would not ask that question. And if he did not 1 can easily refresh his memory.” Fred was ready at train-time, He had donned his best clothes in honor of the occasion. form was one on which fashionably-cut clothes sat with . He was too natural in his movements to be awk- ward, Any one would have supposed him a young entleman returning from a long visit to the shore, n which he had exposed his face rather freely to the sun, The persons of whom he was in pursuit were pres- ent. Fred managed to keep himself out of their sight. Yet it was not through mere chance that he was lounging near the ticket office when the captain approached to procure his ticket. To his surprise his quick eye caught the demand for a ticket for a waren instead of a through passage to New ork. ‘**That’s my station,” said Fred to himself, obtain- ing a ticket for the same place, though with a shadow of disappointment in his heart. ‘*‘A man makes a larger track in a small place,” he philosophically soliloqnized. ‘‘It may make my jobeasier. It is plain enough that they have some trickery on the carpet.”’ The train rolled rapidly away. As may be imagin- ed Fred was deeply interested in the journey, keep- ing his eye at the car window, and watchin e farms, Vv es and towns which they passed with unwearying interest. ‘What station is this?’ he asked of the brakes- man, as the engine stopped longer than usual ** Midway. e water here.”’ ‘“* Are we near Concord ?”’ **It is the second station ahead.”’ ‘ Fred stepped out on the car platform, He was cramped from sitting so long in one position. Mid- way was evidently arailroad junction, A track cross- ed at right angles the one upon which they were. ‘**That must be the South Jersey road,” said Fred to himself, ‘‘ But as I ain’t going down South Jer- ey l’d best get back in the train.” e had his hand on the guard, and was about to step back into the car, when he saw a passenger de- scending from a forward car, followed : immediately By er. It was the captain and mate of the on Fred hastily loosed his hold, and turned away so as to hide his face. “Who knows?” he soliloquized, “Folks have changed their minds. Maybe I’ll go down South Jersey yet.” The two sya il walked into the waiting-room one station. train steamed away without rd, the Life Boat Boy. 11 TS ST nT oe ee nae ee em “Cute they are,” remarked Fred. “And come near asa hair flinging me. Buta miss is as good as .. wr and I've got a strong notion to go down uth Jersey.”’ He could yot play the game here which he had in the crowded station at Beach City, Hedid not even dare to enter the waiting-room, He must trust to chance and vigilance to find where they were oing. a I found out too much before,’ he thought. “The rogues like to have dished me, I'll trust to eyes instead of ears this time,”’ He waited nearly an hour ere the South Jerse train came puffing up to thestation. Fred kept we in the background until he had seen his game safely on board, and then took the car next to theirs. But, in his new caution, he did not get on board un- til the train had actually started. Ile was bound to keep them bagged this time. Fred had obtained no ticket, but he compromised the matter by paying the conductor for a few sta- tions in advance. He could easily pay again if it became necessary. And Fred, somehow, had business on the platform at every stop that was made. If he had been in- spector of platforms he could not have been more diligent. All out for Crockettstown!"’ cried the conductor. Fred, as usual, hasteved to get out, * All aboard!”’ came a quick, following cry. *‘“Come, young man, you'll be hurt, yet, if you stand out at every station till the train starts,’’ sald the brakeman. ‘**T’m all aboard!’ replied Fred, grasping the step-. ard. **No, I’m not,” he suddenly repeated. ‘‘ Guess I'll stop at Crockettstown.”’ He had caught a glimpse of two men descending from the forward car. Fred walked toward the lower end of the platform as the train started and slowly gained headway, “T’ve heard of this place, before,” said Fred, ‘‘It’s where Jim Bundy, the sailor that came ashore with me, is settled, I'd like to call on him and see if his memory has come back.” As he thus soliloquized he was keeping a close eye on the captain and mate of the Triton, who walked quickly away down the main street of the little town. He had no occasion to follow them, for he saw thei, from where he stood, entering a house about half-way down the short street. Fred was not long in taking a closer observation of this establishment, A sign-board swung in front of it, ornamented by a figure of s»me nondescript animal, painted in faded vermilion, ‘““Red Lion Inn, by James Bundy," he read, re- treating a step, in his astonishment. ‘“ Well, if this don’t beat Bannager! Never thought I was going to make this roundabout trip to call on Jim Bundy. Meanwhile his friends at Beach City had been less successful, They had ately reached the fisher- man’s cabin—to be told by his wife that he was away, and would not be back for a day or two. Then, somewhat against the will of this good lady, the cabin was closely searched, but without finding any entrance leading below. The doorway to the pow ein Shey apartment was too well hidden to be easily found ound, They did not hunt long, however. There was the water way. In a few minutes more the sw door Giscovered by Fred was swung back, revealing a narrow channel just wide enough for a boat to traverse. It_ was deep darkness within, bnt the light of a torch soon settled that. The boat was hauled in- side. The men leaped ashore, and the two under- ground rooms were quickly explored. An oath of mighty import came from Harry Bains’s lips as he looked about him, The locked closets, of which Fred had spoken, were wide open— and empty. They had taken the alarm and fled with the spoils, One of the men ran up the stairsin the corner of the room, and lifted the trap-door at their head. It opened {tuto a large, dark closet, which had conceal- ed it from their former search. Indeed, it fitted so closely above that it was not easily traceable, ‘* What next?’’ asked Mr, Proctor, in dismay. Without enewerlng my Deen out of the house, and to the neighboring village of Swamptown. He was within fifteen minutes, “Tt is as I thought,” he exclaimed. ‘Our contra- band fisherman has been gone these three hours, by carriage, and all his spoils with him. I have bired the fastest team in the place. There is nothing now but to give chase. Take the boat back, boys. Mr. Proctor and I will "tend to this little business.” He dashed away again for the town, Mr. Proctor closely following, CHAPTER XIV. A TIGHT RACE. Frep HALYArpD put up atthe Black Horse, the rival tavern to the Red Lion. It was a little further up the street, but commanded an easy view of the por- tal of that amg of entertainment—for man and beast as its sign indicated, y He would not have hesitated to acknowledge that he was hungry. It was full supper time, and his journey had given him an appetite, “But it’s too confounded hot to go inside,” said Fred, tothe proprietor. ‘‘Can’t you send me a bit of bread and cheese, or something else eatable, out here? Irather like your porch, and would sit where I am,” He did not want to Jose sight of the Red Lion, in Eomichbooksteo