Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 196 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

eee a ee —_- -—— “Oh!” She had just then caught sight of the well-remembered face. ‘‘And see, Paul, he has a lady with Lim. Can it be—” **George Delorme’s associate? Who knows? Perhapsso. Though Roger has a multitude of lady friends.” ‘*f wish I could see her face. She keeps it furned away.” **Oh! it cannot be as you suspect. He would hardly be so bold. Never mind her, Grace. Let us get out of this crush, and into our car- riage,” Yet that was no easy matter. Step by step they slowly made their way to the door, The carriages were driving up and rapidly taking away a portion of the crowding host, while the great mass departed on foot to right and left, seeking the nearest street cars. At leugth Mr. Essex’s carriage was an- nounced, and Paul and Grace made their way to the pavement. Just then there came a surge ofanew mass from the door, causing a close jam on the outer steps of the opera- house. Immediately in front of them they perceived the well-known form of Roger Glindon. There was a lady upon his arm, whom he seemed seeking to protect from the crush. Paul and Grace were driven against them by the pressure from behind, which almost caused them to lose their footing on the steps. ‘*Pardon me,” said Grace to the lady on Roger’s arm, against whom she was roughly jostled. ‘‘I could not help it.” The person addressed looked around, with an angry light in her eyes. For a reoment the two were face to face, with a sudden pallor oneach countenance, a repressed ery on their lips, ‘Grace Garland!” ** Mario Ormiston!” 4 And then the surging crowd pushed between and separated them. “Take me to the carriage, Paul,” whispered Grace, as she hung tremblingly upon his arm. ‘*The mystery is revealed. feel as if I had seen a ghost, or a—serpent.” She eould bardly support herself as he led her across the wide pavement to the carriage. CHAPTER IV. PLANNING AND COUNTERPLANNING. WITHIN a large room of an extensive, but rather dingy edifice, in the lower portion of Manhattan Island, a group of men _ were yathered. The apartment was very sparsely urnished. A large desk in one corner, with pigeon-holes overflowing with papers, on which the dust of canturies seemed to have collected;a long, narrow table in the center of the room; and around it a half-dozen chairs, whose oc- ecupants could find no better resting place for their feet than the surface of the table between them. They were all smoking as industriously as if smoking was one of the essential duties of life, some performing this duty with the aid of well- browned meerschaum pipes, others content to take their tobacco in the humbler form of cigars. One only of the group was otherwise occupied. Ho sat, with his feet crossed on the rounds of his chair, and leaned forward over the table, diligently examining a sort of map, which lay spread open before him. It was the same person who had led the searching party at the house in Blair street, the result of which we have already described. The same cynical, distrustful smile rested upon his face, as he followed the lines of the map with his finger. ‘*We have pretty thoroughly used up the fellow’s town haunts,” he remarked. ‘To tell the truth, men, I didn’t expect to find him in any of them. But the rule is, you know, to use up the likely places first, and try the unlikely ethane afterward. Itis a confoundedly ridicu- lous rule, of course, and I calculate we’re likely to find it so in this case. Now where are the most unlikely places for us to find Rusty Mike?’ ‘‘In the top of Trinity steeple,” growled one, removing the pipe from his mouth. “ Taking an airing on the battery,” suggested a second. ; ‘“Or a morning constitutional on the Mall in the Park,” put in a third. ‘© At Grace Church, I should fancy,” added a fourth. ‘Or maybe at the Italian opera. Mike had a taste for music.” ‘*Go on, boys, if you think there is no here- after,” grumbled the first speaker. ‘* The Scriptures say ‘ Answer a fool according to his folly; and 1 certainly was a fool to expect a sensible answer from any of you. Now I’m de- Shadowed; or, Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. es cidedly of the opinion that Mike has shaken the dust of the city from his feet.” ‘*Emigrated to Arizona, perhaps.” ‘*Or on a summer tour to Niagara Falls.” | A laugh passed around the room, which seemed to vex the man with the map. grizzled mustache twisted uneasily upon his lip as he looked up at his jesting companions. | ‘* See here,” he cried, with some fierceness of accent. ‘*I didn’t come to play the baby, or to crack jokes on the wéad of a murderer. When I lay myself out for business | mean business. If you want to play a game of wig- wag afterward [ll leave you a clear field.” The laughter was redoubled. ‘* But, what is your opinion, Foster?’ asked one of the others, ‘‘It is very evident that we have none.” “Dve a notion that our man has struck for | Staten Island. He has hiding-places down that | way. Down here, Joe. This is the route we | followéd when we tracked him after that last | erib-cracking. Hereaways lies Jerry’s caboose, where we nabbed him then.” ‘* You don’t calculate he’s fool enough to fol- low the same track?’ ‘Pm talking about unlikely places,” rejoined Foster, looking up. ‘It’s more likely that he has struck down this way, near the shore, There are several doubtful places along that locality. Down here at Squintville, for in- stance. That is worth investigating. A pair of you can look through that ancient and most honorable metropolis of spoiled fish and odorous oysters. Here’s your track, Joe, And this will be a fair field for you, Tom.” He traced lines on the map with his finger as he spoke. Removing the cigars from their lips the men bent over the table, curiously scanning the work laid out for them. ** But, what ground have you left for your- self?” asked one. ‘* | will try the unlikely places,” he answered. ‘‘Tsent a squad out into Jersey this morning and another up Long Isiand. But Pve a notion that we’ve got the best ground. Two to one but we find him.” ‘* And how about Bob Rockett?” very like an oath, es he dashed his hand vigor- ously upon the table. “Pll be hanged if I ain’t nonplused for one,” he ejaculated. ** Who would have thougbt that a greenborn like that would be smart enough to throw our whole force astray? There’s one thing, though, my boys, we haven’t got his bearings yet. "That's always one diffi- culty with a new hand. If it’s an old stager we know all his whys and wherefores. He hasn’t an earth but what some hound has had But the whole pack is There’s nothing We can’t hea his nose at the bole. astray with these new foxes, for it but to follow their scent. them off.” ‘*That’s true,” answered Joe, taking bis pipe from his lips to make this remarkable observa- tion. ‘*But about that affair in Blair street?’ ‘*T wasn’t on that; but you queried another. How came it to were sure of your game there. fail?’ ‘*Don’t ask me,” Foster shortly replied. ‘The chap must have felt the wind of our com- ing and made his escape. He was not there, that is sure. But we found that smirking rascal of a Beau Bink, and you never saw a pickpocket so confoundedly anxious to sell his old friends. There was something behind it all, Pll swear that; but hang me if I can make it out.” He picked up Joe’s meerschaum from the table and took a lone whiff. ‘© Have his other known resorts been searched?” “Why, what in the sin do you take us for? Of course we've ferreted out every rat-hole and left an open trap everywhere for our man to walk in. The trouble of it all is, we haven’t traced his old connections yet. He had some boyish associates who have turned out mighty dark sheep. It is these chaps we are trying to look up now.” ‘‘ He may be in the Blair street den yet,” sug- gested the one who had spoken before. ‘‘ Would- n’t it pay to make an unexpected call in that quarter?” ‘‘There’s human nature again,” Foster sar- castically replied. ‘“‘If V’'d only been there, you know, they wouldn’t have shut my eyes up. I’d have seen through them. That’s the old song that’s been sung since the days of Adam. Why hang it all, man, do you fancy that | haven’t got good eyesight? Go down and try it on for yourself, if you think so.” ‘‘No offense, Mr. Foster,” replied the other, in a deprecating tone, ‘I only thought—” His | ee } The sound that came from Foster’s lips F.. ‘Of course you only thought. You think too much. Don’t trouble yourself about that con. cern. The house is under strict guard. No- thing will get in or out very conveniently. 3 never do things by halves.” ‘*But mayn’t this be one of the unlikely places you spoke of?” asked Joe, with a laugh. ‘‘Yes, most monstrously unlikely,” rejoinec' Foster, as he folded up his map and replaced i} in his pocket. ‘* Come, gentlemen, we must tc work. Rusty Mike is our game now. I wi) try and lay a parallel to corner up our sky- Rockett, when I can get my thinking organs good working order.” There was then an immediate opening of closets, putting on of overcoats, (for the day was u chilly one, though it was late in the spring), and examining of weapons, with a sma)’ arsenal of which each officer provided himselt. In a few minutes more, «ll their arrangements perfected, they left the room, each to take bis art, as laid out by their superior, in the searck or Rusty Mike. But we must return to that locality which Foster thought such a monstrously unlikely hiding-place for Bob Rockett—to the sumptwous- ly upholstered apartment of which Beau Bink was so proud. We left that well-satisfied householder in a state of surprise and alarm at the unexpected ee of Bob Rockett from his loeked closet. Beau, with his tall lank figure half doubled up on his chair, sat staring in dismayed silence at his guest, utterly at a loss what to make o. such a strange feat of metamorphosis. He gave several nervous glances toward the door, and once partly rose, as if inclined to make a desperate break for freedom from his perilous neighbor, Bob looked at him with a quizzical smile, as he displayed the butt of a pistol which rested in his breast-pocket. “Tf you don’t want a sudden and inexpen- sive funeral you’ll stay where you are, my uneasy friend,” be growled, cynically. “ I'm & good natured fellow, as folks go; but you might. find it healthy to take my advice, and keep quiet.” Beau glared at him as a caged animal might look at the keeper who has mastered him, ‘‘ How long have you known me?” asked Bob. ‘‘A matter of ten years, I reckon,” answered Beau surlily. ‘* And did you ever know me to do a mean or a dirty trick?’ ‘‘N—no! I allers thought you was on the square, blast me if I didn’t!” ‘*And yet you go back on your old friends the minute any rascally policeman chooses to hum in yourear. [’m ashamed of you, Beau Bink!” “Tt looks thunderin’ squally, anyhow,” grum- bled Beau. ‘* It’s a lie, for all that, take my word for it,” retorted Bob, half angrily. ‘‘ That infernal coat looks bad, I’ll admit that; and it’s best for me to keep out of sight until I can show up how it got there. But as for helping to kill Sally Crapper, I’d have liked nothing better than teu catch that black-muzzled hound atit. Hang me if there wouldn’t bave been a Rusty Mike the less in the world. Do you believe me, Beau?” There was the true ring of sincerity in his voice, Beau looked at him dubiously. ‘‘Was it you that left the house with Rusty Mike, after the murder?’ és Yes. ” This was an unexpected answer. He had looked for a denial. ‘‘Blame my eyes, Bob, if you aren’t straight up and down, anyhow,” exclaimed Beau. ‘Hang it all, I can’t swallerit that you had any hand in that devilish business.” “Tf Thad, Beau, ’d go hang myself. But I don’t intend to let the authorities hang me for another man’s work.” There was some admiration in Beeu's fishy eyes as he looked again at his companion, ‘‘How did you fling them poticemen?”’ he asked, curiously. ‘* That’s jist the neatest job I ever heered on. How did you come inter that closet?” ‘You had better sew up the holes in your pocket,” laughed Bob. ‘Yes, I know that key dropped through. But blame me if you didn’t somehow push through a smaller hole. It jist gits me.” ‘*PDo you remember when those two men came into your room?’ ‘*T sartainly do.” ‘“‘ Well, that settled the whole job. I was just then squeezed against the wall of the entry, as Eomichboo (E (Elo) |