Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 196 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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eee “Oh! will you?” exclaimed Grace, clinging to his arm, and looking up eagerly into his face. ‘* Will oe give him a chance? Will you take him into the ank again?” ‘‘Tcan hardly promise to do that, Grace,” he re plied. ‘‘After ali that has happened the directors would scarcely consent. And I doubt very much if Rockett would accept such a situation, But some- thing can be done. can get him into some honest business, and give him a chance.” * Thanks, thanks, father! I have such an interest in him.” “Come, come, Grace! I shall be jealous of your friend, Bob Rockett, if you go on at that rate,” eried Paul, laughingly. “Very well, sirrah. have no objections, important favors. pay them all off.” “Why, you little wildfire, you have paid off two of them cord OM exclaimed Paul. ‘* You per- suaded him to be an honest man, and saved him from his pursuers. We will call that one. You brought him Roger Glindon to clear him of the mur- der charge. That’s two.” ** And now you have coaxed me to get him on his feet again. That’s three,’ chimed in her father. “Very well, but I fancy I owe him some back in- terest yet,” persisted Grace. ‘* By the way,” continued Mr, Garland, ‘“‘ what has become of Roger Glindon’” ‘** He has disappeared from New York again,” an- swered Paul. ‘Gone to rejoin his associate, I sup- If you prefer, I am sure I I owe him at least three very I am afraid I will not be able to pose.’ ‘*Thatisa man in whom there is no good,”’ re- marked Mr. Garland, decidedly. ‘*T fear not,’ answered Grace. ‘* After his heart- less effort to put out Paul's eyes, for I think there is no doubt but it was he that acted as ringleader of those burglars.”’ ‘*He will come to a bad end,” averred Paul, shaking his head. ‘ He is one of the kind who al- ways go from bad to worse.”’ It is, as we have said, a year after the date of our last chapter. During that period Roger Glindon and Marie Ormiston, his companion, have diligent- ly pursued their course of fleecing weak-headed upes. She has employed her charms of face and man- ner to lure these moneyed weaklings to their ruin, while Roger, by his skill in gaming has finished the work, and turned them penniless into the street. There is no robbery; nothing that the law can take hold of. Oh no! it is all fair; quite as fair as to put your hand in a man’s pocket and take out his purse. But the legal scoundrels have been losing as well as their victims. They have been losing their souls, while the victims have lost only their purses. It is May again. A noble steamer is making its way rapidly down the broad Mississippi. Our ambling pair have just made Louisville too hot to hold them, and are on their way to Nashville, where they 4 to reap a new harvest. But they believe in making hay while the sun shines, and Roger has worked®up a little match at ecards between himself and a rather rough-looking borderer. ‘ Just for amusement, you know.” Yet the betting has been rather high considering that it is only amusement, and a considerable crowd of lookers-on are gathered around the table, deeply interested in the game, Some ladies are present in the saloon, and more than one of these is looking eagerly on at the play- ers. But Marie Ormiston, who has most reason to be interested, is seated at the remote end of the cabin, occupied only with her fan, and paying no heed whatever to the excitement around the play- ers. She has faith in Roger. ‘*A cool hundred on this hand,’ says the bor- derer, looking at the cards which Roger has just dealt him. ** Vive hundred better,”’ Roger quietly answers. The borderer looks up from his cards, and a quick flash shoots into his eye. A person who stands be- hind Roger, is carelessly holding a small mirror in such a way that the gambler’s hands are clearly shown to his opponent. The latter detects a peculiar motion of the fingers, and his eyes blaze with sudden passion. ‘*Tsee your five hundred!” he cries, flinging his cards face upward upon the table. ‘Here are my pictures. Four Jacks.” | 4 , ‘Four aces,’ Roger quietly rejoined, displaying his cards also. “You lie,-you infernal scoundrel! One of those ecards came from your sleeve.” In an instant he is on his feet, bas caught Roger's left arm, and drawn several cards from their place of concealment in his loose slee e. With a ery of alarm the specta.ors back off from the table. Marie has dropped her fan and is on her eet. “T lie, do 1?” ecuintes Roger, with restrained anger. “Drop that money, you hound, or [ll measure your coffin for you.’ . But the infuriate Westerner is as quick as his an- tagonist. Revolvers flash out sioulsaneonnrs, That of the borderer, who is more accustomed to quick work than his rival, cracks spitefully. Roger, shot through the breast, falls headlong to the floor, his own weapon exploding as he falls, and sending its ball through the roof of the saloon. But his antagonist is not to escape so readily. Another Sharp crack; 2, light puff of smoke; tho successful duelist falls prostrate in his turn. That for revenge!’ cries Marie, as she springs forward, pistol in hand, through the shrinking and horror-stricken observers, and seizes the money that dies upon the table. —— SS Sst Se Before any one thinks to stop her she has left the cabin, and is lost amid the crowd of passengers in the other part of the boat. The whole thing has passed so quickly that no one has even been able to observe her face sufficiently to know her again. As for the two prostrate gamblers, Roger Glindon is found to be stone dead; shot through the heari. His antagonist is wounded in the shoulder, a dan- gerous, but not fatal wound. And so we part with these two of our characters, Roger Glindon to this grave, Marie Ormiston to a life through which we do not care to follow her. As for Bob Rockett, we may discover him—at the very moment when Roger fell dead before the pis- tol of his antagonist—in a little office in Wall street, New York. Said office is neither remarkable for size nor furniture, but itis big enough for Bob, as he has oftensaid. And for the tall, lank, withered old chap, with the dandyish affectation, who is writing away for dear life at its single desk, it is a perfect palace of suniptuousness. “It is a little better than your parlor, with the cobweb hangings,”’ said Bob, in response to. the praises of this individual. ‘*‘ You remember the shanty down on Blair street, Beau?’’ ‘**Don’t I?’ answered Beau Bink, for it was no other than that individual. “That was the last place where I followed my old business, Tell you what, Bob, it’s nice to feel you’re in an honest line, and x laugh the;perlice in the face. Ain’t it, now ?”’ **I fancy so,” laughed Bob. ‘ And nimble fingers with the pen pay as well as in folks’ pockets, eh?” ** Better, better! There’s a pecooliar satisfaction *bout as I could never feel in the old trade,” an. _o.u scratched his ear, and then dashed into the details of his work as if his pen was a race- pores and had only a minute to make the half-mile urn, “Well, well, Beau, I must be away. Got fifty thousand bushels of barley to push off on the floor to-day. Choice Canadian at that, my boy. Ought to get a prime figure, eh?’ Seizing his hat Bob went briskly from the office, ee a verse of a popular song as he disap- peared, Me looked very different from when we last saw him, Clean shaven, smoothly combed, his face full of animation and hope, dressed neatly and fashion- ably, he was a very different figure from the fugitive we lately saw shirking the police, or the prisoner on trial for his life in court. ‘** Honesty pays.’’ Such was the burden of Bob's song. ‘The same energy and wit given to business as to rascality will bring twice the returns in money, and six times the returns in satisfaction. That's m y, experience,” n fact, Bob Rockett was now a full-fledged broker on the New York Grain Exchange. Mr. Garland seeing the bent of his mind, had quickly determined that no quiet line of business would suit his temper- ament. Something active and exciting was needed for Bob. After looking around the whole field the experienced banker had ended by purchasing him a footing on the floor of the grain exchange, and en- tering him as a full-fledged broker. It was just the opening that Bob’s energies peeded. He had quick] built himself up a good business, and was aieady making money with a rapidity that kept his admirer, Beau Bink, ina state of endless admiration, On his return from the Board, on the day in ques- tion, he cried out jubilantly to Beau, on opening the door of his office; “A splendid sale, Beau! Barley has riz. Got three cents above yesterday’s market.— Ah? Oh! oat me, Mrs. Essex; | did not know you were ere.”’ “lam glad to see that you are doing so well,” said Grace, holding out her hand, ‘it is all due to you,”’ answered Bob, gratefully. ‘It is alldue to yourself,”’ she replied. ‘‘I have only partly repaid your benefits. By the way, at fa- ther’s request, I wish to invite you to take dinner with us to-morrow. Can you come?” ‘Certainly, I shall only be too happy.” ““And— But what was the burden of that little momar heard you humming, when I was last 1ere?”’ ** Honesty pays best,” answered Bob, with a laugh. “The newest, truest and best song out,” And so upon them all we drop the curtain. THE END. THE Sunnyside Library 1 Latta Rooxktt. By Thomas Moore... ........ 10¢ 2 Don Juan. By Lord Byron................5 .. 0e 3 ParapisE Lost. By John Milton... ......... 10c 4 Tur Lapy or THE Lake. By Sir Waltor Scott. 10c 5 Lucire. By Owen Meredith.............0.... 10¢ 6 UnpINE; or, THE WATER-SPIRIT. From the German of Friederich De La Motte Fouque.. 10¢ For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, postage paid on receipt of twelve cents for single numbers, double numbers twenty-four cents. ADAMS, VICTOR & Co,, Publishers, 98 William street, N. Y. 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