Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 262 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 The Young Sleuths - Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. BY CHARLES MORRIS, AUTHOR OF ‘DICK DASHAWAY,” “THE TWO BLOODS,” ‘‘ WILD WILL,” ‘‘ BOB ROCKETT,” ‘‘ WII & WILD- FIRE,” ETC., ‘TC. CHAPTER L PAPERS AND SHOE POLISH. ‘““Yerr’s yer Mornin’ Post! Yere’s yer Ledger, News, Item! Bloody murder in Cali- fornia! Nobody killed, but a good many ’spect- ed to die! Roll up: Rattle up! Yere’s yer paper! Have one, mister? It’s jist b’ilin’ over with news this mornin’.”’ The boy who was making the air musical with his yells wasa half-grown urchin dina ragged suit of clothes which had been made for & man, and which eae like empty sacks upon ais slender limbs. On his head was crushed a shapeless cap, through whose well ventilated sop tufts of brick-colored hair rose like plumes. His face was ayo but handsome, but it was reree Ting th cunning and boyish wit. Young as he was, he had evidently been well sharpened against the rough grindstone of the world, and was quite able to make his way, without help, through the thorny paths of life. Under bis arm was a huge roll of newspapers of which he was rapidly disposing, as he owled his way along down the densest squares of Chest- nut street. ' **What’ll you have, mister? Times, News, Mornin’ Post? Got’em all. High old time on the Sandwich Islands! Big row in Chiny! Yere’s yer paper! Bu’stin’ full of news!” His roll of papers rapidly diminished as he | made his way down the street, while the gath- irs | pennies rattled in his apology for a pocket. ‘‘Nary time!” be ejaculated, as he tried a coin viciously between his teeth. ‘ Ain’t takin’ that sort. Jist take that home, mister, to mend ze lead pipes. Can’t pass nothin’ but silver in his shop.” ‘‘Do you want to say it is bad?” exclaimed the man, angrily. He wasa well-dressed but a sinister-looking individual. ‘“‘ That ’pends on what you pass it for. It’s a fust chop bit of lead; but I ain't swoppin’ off papers for that sort.—-Paper, siz? Times, Post, ews? What’ll ye have?’ While he was supplying some other customers the harsh-faced personage replaced the counter- feit coin in his pocket, and offered a silver dime instead. ‘*Yeu’re a sharp little coon,” he growled. ‘‘But you're a bit too tonguey.” ‘* That’s how I n ake my livin’,” answered the boy undauntedly. ‘‘ Was born with my eye- teeth cut, mister. Can’t play off that sort o’ spendulies on Mickey Malone, and ther’s no use in’.” ‘Why, you pepudent little rat, do you sup- pose I wanted to?’ The man took his paper with an angry jerk, and turned quickly away, as if not caring to keep up the conversation. Mickey nud an admiring companion, who had been highly enjo ing this conversation. The wink in the newsboy’s eye, and the cun- ning thrust of his tongue into his cheek were a picture to behold. ‘* That’s jist as thin as they spreads the butter at the Newsboys’ Home,” he remarked. ‘ That chap thought he’d got hold of a green ’un, who’d trade papers for brass buttons. Didn’t I take the starch out of *im neat?—This way, mister! Want the News? Yere’s yer paper.” He continued his route until he reached the square in front of the State House, a favorite locality for newsboys and bootblacks. Quite a group of the latter were collected there, who were paying much more attention to skylark- ing than to business. ‘** Hey, Joe!” cried Mickey, a little sharply, to one of the latter. ‘‘That ain’t biz, nohow. If we're goin’ to be pards you’s got to do your share in the perfession.”’ The boy thus spoken to was a very different- looking person from Mickey. He was neatly though poorly dressed, and had an innocent, confiding face, with none of the sharpness of the other’s keen countenance. **T ain’t done so bad,” he said, in apology. ** And a fellow can’t be always standing like a post, whistling for a job.” The Young Sleuths. ‘* Ye ain’t got no bigness enterprise, Joe, I's of’n told you that. You take the papers and give me the box. Bet you high I stir up some trade,” The transfer was quickly made, and Joe walked or proclaiming his wares in a musi- cal voice, w ile Mickey rolled his eyes sharply around, on the lookout for a job. ‘‘ Black ’em, mister? Black’em? Give ye a rime old shine. Turn the wust cow-hide inter ookin’.glasses. Only got to look in yer boot toe to comb out yer mustache. Yere ye are! Double action blackin’! Fast colors! Now’s yer time!” At this moment a countryman came along, whose boots looked as if he bad lately been walking in a plowed field. There was a gen- ag for him, in which Mickey ‘was fore- mos ‘* What you pushin’ me for, Bill Prime? Ill bu’st yer nob if you don’t look out sharp!” he angrily exclaimed. ‘‘This way, mister. Them fellers is got the old style blackin’. The same kind as Noah used, ere’s the lookin’-glass article. Last invention. Patent applied for, Mc: till I polish you off.” ‘‘What’s the plunder?” asked the country- ma n. ‘‘ Tt’s ten cents, for a wholesale job,” answered Mickey, with a queer look at the monstrous boots of his customer. ‘You git out!” was the angry reply. ‘ Here, boy, I’ll give you five cents for a shine,” and he set his heavy foot on Bill Prime’s box. ‘* All serene,” rejoined Mickey. ‘I don’t take no contracts to shine a whole side of leather for five cents. Ain’t goin’ to be nobody’s bankrupt, nary time.—This way, sir! Shine ’em up!” A passer-by had paused, and Mickey waited for no further invitation. Ina moment he had the man’s shoe on his box, and was on bis knees before him. ‘‘ What are you at, you dirty rat?’ cried the man sharply. ‘‘ Who asked you to black my shoes?’ “Why, yer ain’t goin’ through the street with underpinning like that?” queried Mickey, as he looked up with upblushing impudence, ‘¢ A street that’s got ladies in it, too? Jist wait till I git done, and yer gran’mother wouldn't recksrnize yer. Why, a chap ain’t half-dressed as ain’t got no polish on his boots.” _ weer! had not waited for permission, but was rubbing away for dear life. ‘You impudenblittle vagabond!” growled the man, with an odd laugh, ‘‘ Well, go ahead, as long as you’ve taken me prisoner.” The boy stuck “his tongue comically into his cheek, as he rubbed and polished away with both bands. ‘‘ Know’'d that’d fetch ’im,” he said to himself. ‘‘ Merchants has got to make bizness, if it don’t come on its own book.” Mickey worked away for dear life for a minute or two, until he had the man’s shoes shining like polished silver. A sharp rap on the box announced the completion of the task, while the boy held out a dirty paw for the money. The customer carelessly dropped a coin into the outstretched band, ; ‘‘ Hillo!” exclaimed Mickey, with a sharp accent. ‘‘ Seems to me I’ve seen that gentleman afore.” He sprung to his feet, and looked for the first irae into the face of the customer. “I know’d it! It’s the same chap as tried to do me on the paper. And this is the identercal bit o’ lead. Fold e once afore this mornin’ I wasn’t takin’ that kind.” “Why, blast turn tblack ‘Got more trades nor that,” grinned the boy. ‘‘ Kin do’most anything. Now, see yere, if you don’t fork out a bit o’ solid cash quicker nor lightnin’, Ill have ye tuk up fer passin’ counter- feits, and I ain’t lyin’ about it neither.” si Vamose, you young devil. I didn’t ask you to blacken my boots. You forced it on me, and you can whistle for your ye He walked away with a swaggering galt, closely followed by the angry boy. ‘“‘ Best fork over, mister. Yer ain’t tryin’ it on no baby, like little Joe Joram. I’ve got the dead wood on you in this counterféit dime, net you don’t pony up I'll call in the per- ice. “Git out, now,.or Vll kick your jaw off!” cried the man, furiously. ‘‘I owe you nothing, you little hound. But Ill give you somethin ” remember if you bark around my heels muc onger. “I want my pay!” persisted the angry boy. ‘ He’s a thief and a cheat,” he explained to the curious people, who had stop to hear this you are you the newsboy ’ ‘Mickey, w altercation. ‘‘He’s got a shine of me, and paid me with this. Jist look at it, and then take a squint at that coon.” He held up the coin for inspection. e infuriated man turned and made a quick stroke at his tormentor. Mickey ducked, but the blow caught him on the hand, and knocked the counterfeit coin into the mud of the gutter. The angry fellow ran forward to follow up his blow with a kick. Several others started forward at the same time, with the pu e of protecting the lad from his reckless assailant. But Mickey was quité able to take care of himself, as he soon proved. For he darted like a cat past the uplifted leg of the brutal indi- vidual, and in a moment had sunk a set of teeth, as as those of a rat, into the villain’s calf. The jatter yelled with pain, while Mickey shot rapidly beyond his reach, ‘I got yer money!” he cried, exultingly. ‘There's yer change! I guess we’re quits!” Snatching up his box the boy twisted away through the crowd, sending back a defiant peal of laughter, which was echoed by some of the bystanders. Evidently they thought the cus- tomer served right. The latter gave vent to a peal of curses, and stood for a moment as if in hesitation whether to pursue. But a glance showed him that pur- suit would be useless, and he started on witha parting oath, in which he vowed to get even with the boy. **Guess you won’t, mister man!” exclaimed th his fingers at his nose. ‘‘Jist try it on, and I bet you a cow I git even with you fust. You woke up the wrong coon when you tried it on Rollicking Mickey Malone, now I tell you.— Shine ’em! Shine ’em! Yere’s yer prime blackin’, Fust chop, double X, slap-up polish! Havea shine, sir? Haveashine?” And with his box slung over his shoulder, the boy — rered down the street, on a sharp lookout or jobs. For several hours more the two boys plied their avocations, innocent little Joe disposin of his papers, and wide-awake Mickey actively working up the polishing trade. It proved to be a good day for business, and before noon the roll of papers had completely disappeared, while Mickey’s pocket was growing heavy with its weight of small coins. The youthful partners in business met finally at their appointed rendezvous, on the broad steps of the Girard bank, where they counted out the proceeas of their morning’s business, and divided the profits, as was their daily cus- tom. ‘‘Lucky we went inter biz together,” re marked Mickey. ‘‘A chap don’t want to be polishin’ or to be newspaperin’ all day long. I allers go in for a bit of variety.” ‘You are worth a dozen of me, Mickey,” an- swered Joe, looking up with a grateful expres- sion on his innocent face. ‘‘The boys would crow over me if it weren’t for you. And I couldn’t do half the business you do.” ‘‘ Guess they won’t do much crowin’ over me,” laughed Mickey. ‘‘ As fer bizness, Joe, you don’t s’pose I’d be green enough to take you for a pard, if you weren’t slap up to the mark! When it’s biz with me, it’s biz; and friendship don’t count. It’s yer innercept little profile as takes with folks, Joe. And I guess it’s my im- pha tongue, cause I ain’t. got no good looks waste. nynew things has gone prime this mornin’, and I move ysters for dinner.” ‘‘Oysters!” exclaimed Joe, opening his eyes wide with surprise anddelight. ‘‘Oh laws! you don’t say so?” ° ‘* Do you like ’em?” asked Mickey. ‘‘You bet I do!” and the-boy licked his lips we have a go of in jo ous anticipation. “Then we'll have ’ysters,” answered Mickey decidedly. ‘‘ We’ve been carryin’ on bizness for jist a month to-day, and it’s bout time we was havin’ a div‘dend. Guess I'll take’mine out ina i a “Tike .wem stewed,” said Joe, in a doubtful one. ‘Bless yer eyes, you kin have ’em on the half shell, for all I keer! Pocket yer cash, Boe. Blamed if the boy wouldn’t go way and leave it on the step, he’s got his eyes so full of ’ysters. Let’s strike for Tom Mill’s cellar. That’s the place to git the primes.” Joe’s eyes danced with delight as the two boys walked along toward the place where the hoped to have an epicurean feast. Nor was his - pleasure diminished by the comical way in which Mickey related his morning’s adventure and how he got even with the sharp who bad twice tried him with a counterfeit ccin. Ebooks LAL (EO) (E@)