Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 196 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

te ad Shadowed ; or, Bob Rockett's Fight for Life. — something unintelligible in reply. He was no longer the man he had been of old. ‘** Will some one get him a bite of victuals?’ asked Bob. ‘‘ He looks famished.” wen eat a morsel these two days,’’ grumbled ike. One of the men hastened back with this charitable intent. Mixe seemed utterly cowed. He remained in a bowed attitude, his eyes fixed dully upon his captor. When the food was brought him he de- voured it with the ravenous appetite of a starving dog. At the same time Bob's teain, a one-horse open wagou, was brought around to the hotel front. "Do: a ‘t ou want some help?” asked a sturdy vil- lager. t moughtn’t be safe fur you to travel alone with that ruffian.” A half laugh broke from Bob’s lips. He drew up his powerful form, and fixed his eyes with a con- temptuous look upon his prisoner. ** No, thank you,” he said. “ f fancy thatl am a good match for our friend here.’ It seemed so indeed, for Bob was the impersona- tion of health and strength, while his captive though raw-boned and muscular, was so emaciated that he looked as if he would be but a feather in the hands ‘of his vigorous captor. In a few minutes more they were in the carriage and away, followed by the wondering and excited looks of the villagers. ‘“My stars! he takes a murderer without even handcuffing him!” cried the landlord. ‘* He’s a bold one, you bet,’’ exclaimed another. * Did you notice his shoulders? Why he’s a young giant,” ‘“*And I saw the shape of a pistol-stock in his pocket,” announced a third. “The murderer wouldn’t have no more chance in his hands than a cat-bird in a hawk’s claws.”’ For miles and miles they drove through that gloomy May day, ever tending toward the city in the distance, Mike kept silent and gloomy. One would have said that he was glad of even this as a release from his late dismal hauntings, Onee he looked at his cap*or, with awakening fer ocity in his eyes, but this feeling quailed before Bob’s resolute glance. Once he made an appeal for release. ** We’ hang together, you know.” . pat ease or separate it matters not,’’ rejoined b. “You cowardly villain! from the moment you went back on me for your wife’s murder, and ied te throw it on my shoulders, I swore you should hang for it. comes to me.”’ They relapsed into silences again, driving on over the country roads, and through thickly clustered villages and towns as they drew nearer to the city. Mike's head was dropped upon his breast, his eyes luster! his tips white and trembling. He seemed thoro a cowed. Night was approaching as they at length drove through ai streets of Jersey City, and approached uns ferry Jeading across the North river to New orix. But fow of the officers were left in the central police station, when at length this carriage, with its strange occupants, halted in front of the door, and Bob, th a hoarse voice, bade his comrade descend. Mr. Foster, and the two or three officers who re- mained with’ him,in the main room of the station, lifted their eyes questioning rly, as these two men en- tere And hang you shall, whatever Mike walked in a bent attitude, with a treacherous expression in his eyes as they h alf turned upon his ¢aptor. ‘Well, my friends,”’ ‘what can I do for you?” Bob's voice seemed to have grown hoarse as he answered. But there was no faltering in its firm tones. “Thave been doing your work for you, gentle- men. Ihave brought you here Mike Crapper, the murderer. Hers is your man. You will please re- lieve me of any further charge of him.’ “The deuce!’ exclaimed the officer, springing from his listless attitude, and hurrying across the floor to fix his keen eyes on Mike’s owering face. "By Heavens, boys, it is he! Hang me, if this isn’t a catch worth making! And who are you, and where and how did you manage to take him?” he asked, turning to Bob. “T ‘will tell you,”’ exclaimed Mike maliciously. “Tt’s a double catch maybe. He is—” “ Held!” cried Bob, clapping his hand on the murderer’s mouth, “T have the first word in this game. I am he who has been falsely accused of taking part in this murder, and whom this villain refuses to clear of the charge., I am Bob Rockett, the aeeused!”’ There was a look of dignity upon his face, in strong contrast to the shrinking cowardice of his companion, as he stood upright and calm before the officers, devoted to his fate. said Mr. Foster shortly, CHAPTER XII. THE NET DRAWING IN. THERE was considerable excitement in the reading Sens of New York, when the news of the event escribed in our last chapter became known. Fora murderer to surrender himself voluntarily, with the purpose of bringing his confederate to justice, such an event was unprecedented. What could be the real motive at the bottom of it? It certainly did not look Lke the act of a guilty man, and a strong sentiment in fayor‘of Bob Rockett’s innocence was ereate | in the public mind by his self-sacrifice in of justice. a — —_—- ——_— —_—_ + CUO CU - O---—rn— 2nrn—aeenassmm sss 9999090958959) 0 —— + + —— eee ee He was interviewed in his prison cell by an enter- ising newspaper reporter, and gave the following information beyond that ’ already known to the reader. He declared that he had not been in the | room of the murderer on the day of the crime. He | had business with him, and had met him on the stairs on the way to his room, Mike Crapper had acted very strangely on that occasion, had insisted that they should go outside for the transaction of their business, and on his visitor’s complaint of the heat, had taken his overcoat, saying that he would take care of it until it was wantec again, The overcoat was left in the murderer’s room, and the blood on its sleeve, and on the handkerchief in its pocket, was probably put there by the murderer with the sudden thought of implicating his visitor in the crime. ‘‘He always hated me,” continued Bob, probably wished to injure me in this w 7 rate I did not hear of the murder until the of that.day, and was astonished to find that my name was eon get with it.’ ‘*Thave met Mike Crapper since,” he proceeded, and demanded that he should do me justice, w hich he refused todo. From that moment I determined that he, himself, should be brou ght to justice, what- ever the consequence to me,’ ‘* And have you no proof of this statement? Noth- ing to exonerate you? “Nothing whatever. would clear me if I could get at it. whether or not I will succeed.”’ ** What is its nature?” askeu the reporter. “I decline to tell, The matter is in the hands of my lawyer, and of afriend. 1 do not know if it would be to my advantage to make it public.” This was all the shrewd questioning repor ter could get from him. He persistently refused to tell what was this evidence on which he relied to prove his in- nocenrce, The tidings of this strange event were received at the Garland household with varied emotions. Grace had made no secret of her adventures with the two fugitives, and athrill of horror went through the souls of her listeners on hearing of her perilous ad- venture with the murderer, “To think of your trusting him so as to return to him alone!"’ exclaimed her father. ‘‘Why you might have known that it was dangerous. Such men have no gratitude.”’ ‘*T know it now,” replied Grace. a lesson in prudence.’ * And then to bring that other man into the house, and conceal him from the police! It was a ver bold and risky action. And to put yourself in the power of a murderer, ‘He is no ih an !’ cried Grace indignantly. ‘“ And after what he did for me I would have been ungrateful indeed to refuse him protection, What doy ou say, Paul? Did 1 not do right?” Paul made no answer, but he put his arm around her waist, and looked into her 8 arkling eyes with an expression of perfect trust and devotion. **I know ou agree with me.”’ ‘*Indeed I do,’ answered Paul, ‘‘IThave utterly changed my opinion about Bob Rockett. Since the day I saved his life upon the river he has done me nothing but good, and I cannot believe that such a man is capable of the ark crime that is charged against him,” “She turned impulsively and imprinted a fervent kiss upon his lips. ‘Thanks! thanks!” she ejaculated, ‘I knew you would not leave me alone in my faith in him.’ “AH sentiment! All growled her father. “The evidence overwhelming.” ‘* But this last act of his, father?”’ ‘* Yes, I admit that. is strange, and I hardly know how to understand it. But then he may have felt himself so cornered by the police that escape was impossible, and this may be only a ruse to create a public feeling in his favor.”’ ‘‘He was not cornered by the police,” she cried impulsively. ‘* He defied the police. credit for nothing.” ‘*T don’t want to be hard, child,”’ replied her fa- ther calmly. ‘“ But I know something more of hu- man nature than you can, and I believe there is far more of bad than good in this man. If he is inno- cent where is his evidence? He has not brought an iota of proof.”’ Grace smiled mysteriousl “The proof will be for thoomite in good time,” she replied. ‘Why, what do you mean?”’ asked her father and husband simultane erage ‘That is my secret. I have undertaken to clear Bob Rockett of this crime. yet in my efforts, but I hope to succeed, ai on the track of the necessar y evidence.’ Despite all their questioning nothing more could be got from her. She answered them with smiling m y! steriousness, ‘Just wait. “and At any evening There is a proof which I do not know ‘*T have learned ridiculous sentiment!” against him is You give him I have not succeeded J think 1 You have got to be part of the gen- eral public. After all he has done for me i will never desert him. I owe him,a life for a hfe.” She took the first opportunity to glance at a sli of paper which she held in her hand, and which h come to her that morning from the prison of Bob Rockett. “Tf I was but free now I would find him,” it read, ‘‘T have been thinking it over since I have been here. He is with Marie Ormiston. She pursued the life of a professional gambler in company with George De- lorme. But, Roger Glindon is an expert at card Jay. He has run through his money and is poor. ndoubtedly that is their object in leaving New York, They have started out on a tour of gambling. They can be best found by following the ordinary | ; 13 - — ee ee eee DS ee ee Confer with my to look for sue The days are grow- — routes of the gambling fraternity. lawyer. He will know where characters, And lose no time. ing precious now.’ She had followed the suggestions of this note, and a series of shrewd eyes were already on the look-out for two such characters, in every city where such a course of life could be profitably followed. But we must, for the present, step in advance of her telegrams and get our eyes ahead of those of her agents. In che oarlor of asmall, but neat inn at Roches- ter, N. Y., two persons are seated. It is several days later than the date of the above given conver- sation, yet the subject of their conference, is the spinel as that which proved so interesting te Grace Ussex It is in fact, Roger Glindon and Marie Ormiston. He is seated in his usual nonchalant attitude, hie toe on the edge of the table and his chair pushed back, while he plays indolently with a sheet of music, over which he had been otaneine g. She has been at the piano carelessly running her fingers over the keys, but she swings around on the stcol in response to a remark from him, “It’s an outrageously aw!. ward business, that ea Bob Rockett,”’ he said, as he picked u A newspa and ran his eye over it. ‘Somehow I can’t sw Cw it that Bob had all that inhim, But Til be ‘hts "pie if I know what to make of this last job; ng himself up to the police. Anxiety to help wren take the other fellow, eh? That won’t do, Bob. That’s decidedly too thin. You never was such a confounded fool. as that.” ‘* Who is this Bob Rockett?” she asked, He looked at her for a moment and then burst into an amused <i “ By Jove, Marie, you ought to know,” he ex- claisiied. “Who is’ he but your friend ‘with the spectacles; the young gentleman to whom you owe such compliments.” “That villain!’ she cried, her eye flashing. “ But you told me that he was dead—that you settled hiro yourself, for his treachery in that bank job.” “T fancied I had. But Bob has a hard head and he came round all right again. Don't be eo hard, my dear,” he laughed. “ It was only diamond cut diamond between you and him you know, and his dig ynond proved the sharpest. You must not bear hia ice ey don’t like him, at any rate, And I don't faney that you can make me like him.” He continued to nuse, “TIT don’t know. Wasn't I with Bob on the day of that murder? Let me see—the 2bth of goer: Thursday. By Jove, that was the day! 1 know it now because ft was the day I sold my horse. Who knows but I might pare an alibi?’ ‘*Don’t you trouble yourself about such matters,” “We have our own busi- she shrewishly replied. Let this man take care of ness to look after. himself,”’ And for a week thereafter she fought down the rising sense of duty in her easy-virlued companion, as they moved from place to place in the exe of their chosen profession of fleecing the card-play- ing community. At the end of this week they found themselves in Cincinnati. There they put up at one of the prin- cipal hotels and prepared to look around them, and test the capacities of that place for their special business. Marie was an adept in the art of inveigling the unsuspicious into her toils, her former experience during her life with George De lerme having taught her all the mysteries of her disreputable business. Roger had just parted with her at the ladies’ en- trance to the hotel, and had lounged into the main office, where he now occupied himself in looking over the names in the hotel register, with the hope, perhaps, of discovering some game for his bait. A touch upon the shoulder aroused him from this occupation. He turned antl looked into the face of a person who was a perfeet stranger to him. ‘Well, sir?’ he curtly asked. “ Bxcuse me, but could I have a few misutes’ pri- vate conversation with your” Roger looked at him questioningly for a few mo- ments, asking himself what this man could want with him. ‘He finally said: “ Very well. 1 have no eg wiceekere | Particularly as 1am curious to know what you can have with me.” The man made no reply, but led the way to the reading-room of the hotel, where he took a seat by a table in an unoccupied corner, Here, before speaking, he o ened and nced over a newspaper that lay bet ore him. finally, eggee | his finger on a special paragraph, he lifted ow eyes to Roger, who was curiously regarding iim. “Do you take any interest in_this murder trial, that is going on just now in New York?” he asked. Roger started with surprise. ‘Ts that what you brought me here for?” ‘““Yes. I wish to read you some of the evidence in the trial of Michael Crapper, which has beea pro- ceeding now for two days,” “Tam much obliged to you,” answered Roger, & little angrily. ‘* But ie prefer to choose my own reading and readers.’ “Only a moment, sir. It appears here on un- doubted evidence that the murder took place at the hour of half-past ten on the morning Thursday, the tenes of April.” es “But there is another accused of this murder, who was not seen in the house until after eleven o’clock on that morning—one Robert Rockett,” ** Wel?” asked Roger. | Elo agi (Ee ovoa, CS