Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 282 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

,* eee eee es ne we me a wre ngs +--+ =e *‘ That is not the style of writing I would ex- pect from a tramp,” said the gentleman, as he read the two lines. ‘‘I will go to the door, Lizzie, and see what he wants.” At the door his dark eyes, looking keenly from under shaggy brows, took in the young typo at & glance, and he wrote on the slate in a business- like hand: “Tam Mr. Blackman, What do you want?” Lumley in reply. Mr. Blackman motioned to the writer to | follow him, and led the way toward the back | and this offer gave him yet more pleasure. room. There was a disposition to bar out Perry Weasel, whose appearance was decidedly trampish; but Lumley took the slate, and wrote: “You need the boy. He can tell you more about the matter than I can.” So the two visitors were ushered into Mr. Blackman’s private room, followed by the young lady, and were given seats, ragged and dirty Wessel being sent into a corner alone. Bridget jooked in from the hall, and the expression of ber red face showed her disapproval of the entire performance. Lumley at once took his slate, and wrote these words: “I have accidentally learned of a plan to rob your house to-night. If you will question this boy, be can tell you all about it.” Mr. Blackman proceeded to question the boy, who hesitated, stammered, and looked piteously at his protector, and Lumley hastened to remark on bis slate that the boy was afraid of getting into trouble because be had been a companion of the man who planned the robbery. Mr. Blackman assured the young tramp that no harm would come to bim, and he began to tei! the story in his own way. George Lumley was on thorns forfear that the sham of his deaf and dumb ‘tracket” would be discovered by care- lessness of the boy in repeating conversations in which adeafand dumb man could not have taken part. Bunt Weasel had got it firmly fixed in his mind that his protector was to be deaf and dumb, and he passed through the ordeal splen- | didly, making no blunder, and giving no con- versations buf those between himself and the tramp master from whom he had run away. Mr. Blackman asked the boy but a few ques- tions, and turned to Lumley when the story was ended, nodd'ng as if to let the typo know that he fully understood the matter. Thena slate conversation ensued between the twomen. * This is very impor ant, if trie,” wrote Mr, Blackman, “‘I believe it, and will be on my guard. Who are you, und where are you going to?” “My namais George Lumley, and I am a printer. UT am going to Vinson to look for work.” ‘Do you expect to find work there?’ ‘‘ There is always work for a good workman,” ‘*That is the way to talk, My son is the pub- er rman wee ere ee 8 “+ | he is in the right, Of course J won't keep him « ‘“T have something of importance to tell you; | but it is hot out here and I am tired,” wrote | was communicated to Lumley, who gladly ac- The Typo Detective. unless I am suited, and can’t expect him to stay | unless he is suited. But Tam sick and tired of | tramping jours, who only work long enough to | get money for a spree, or to take them to the | next town. I say, father, it is too late for this man to go on to Vinson this evening. Suppose we keep him here until morning, and then [ | will take him down in my buggy.” Mr. Blackman assented, and the proposition | cepted. He was also informed that he could have a chance to wash and brush himself up, It seemed to be the prevalent opinion that | Perry Wessel was havond the reach of washing and brushing; but he was turned over to Bridget, who was directed io do what she could for him. As George Lumley attended to his toilet, with which he took all possible pains, it seemed to him that he was quite fortunate in dropping into a job, and in finding such a pleasan pass the night. CHAPTER V. THE TRAMPS’ ATTAOK. finished putting himself in order, and he had pesca s0 well that there was nothing of the appearance of the tramp about him whea he came down, He was received with a smile and a friendly grasp of the hand by Arthur Blackman. ‘*Hather,” said that young gentleman, ‘* Mr, He is quite a Lumley is going to eat with us, Don gentlemanly looking young fellow. think so, Lizzie?” ** Indeed he is,” replied the young lady, with a glance and a blush that would have conve ve ) t you her meaning to the young printer, even i had not had the use of his ears. As it was,,the compliment sent a blush into his face, which he was obliged to cover with a sneeze. “The boy,’ said Arthur, “is evidently a tramp, who will have to be provided for in the kitchen.” Then he seized the slate and asked Lumley what he expected to do with that boy. * 1 shall try to take care of him and give him a fair start,” was the reply. “All right, su Pete y r. Blackman took the head of the table, Liz- zie poured out the tea, and Luniley and Arthur were seated opposite each other, There was no difficulty in helping the deaf and dumb man at the table. The appetite is a ready interpreter, and his wants were easily supplied. He had evidently learned to read place to SUPPER was ready when George Lumley had y I will help you. Sit down to faculty was quite noticeable in his intercourse with Lizzie Blackman, from whose glances and motions he sppeared to take her meaning as lisher and editor of the Vinson Vindicator, and | wellas if she had spoken. he wants a good hand. He vill soon be here.” | A brisk pull made the door-be!l jingle sharp- ly, anid Mr. Blackman dropped the slate, “There is Arthur!” he said, door, Bridget, and let bim in.” Mr. Arthur Blackman walked briskly to the back room. He wasa tall and lithe young man, wearing a mustache and side whiskers, with dark eyes like bis father’s, and black hair. His face was a pleasing one, and theshade of melan- choly that darkened it made it no less so, He was surprised at the company be saw assetnbled in Mr. Blackmen’s room, and that gentleman hastened to explain the situation to him. ‘* Allright,” he said. ‘For warned is fore- armed. Wecan easily take care of a couple of tramps, when we are on the lookout for them. This man is a printer, you say, sir? Deaf and dumb, toot That must be very unhandy for him. How am I going to talk to him?” Mr. Blaci man pointed to the slate. Art5ur seized it, and questions and answerg passed quickly between him and Lumley. ‘* Where are you from, and what can you do?” asked the proprietor of the Vindicator. ‘* From eu York offices. I am a quick and correct type-setter, and a fair hand at job work.” “I pay thirty-five cents a thousand. I will try you on piece work, if you are willing.” ‘All paghs, © replied the as ** How long will you stay if you suit mef” w ds Tong as Tam sulted.” ee e young gentleman read question and anawer to bis father, That is pretty independent,” he said, “ But ‘* Really. Lizzie,” said her brother, ‘ you get ov admirably with our deaf mute friend, and [ ' don’t believe TIT shall have much trouble with ‘Run to the | him in the office. lam quite curious to get at his history and to find out bow a deaf mute learned the printing business, but it is too much of a task to talk to him.” ‘Perhaps he can get at something of what we say by the motions of our lips,” said Lizzie, | who could not easily aceustom herself to the | idea of talking shout a young man in his pres- countenances and decipher expressions, and this ence as if be was absent. Then a strange circumstance bappened to the guest. Es suddenly dropped his knife and fork and stared steadily, with a look of horror, at Arthur Blackman—not at that young gentle- man’s face or at the portion of bis body that was visible, but at bis left hand, which he had changed to hold up, with the back of it toward the thle. The little finger of that band was missing! ‘What is the matter?’ arked Lizzie, and Mr. Blackman drew back and stared at bis guest. Arthur noticed the direction of Lumley’s paze and pointed at his maimed hand with an | inguiring look, he typo picked up his knife and fork, but | ee seemed to be unable to withdraw his eyes from | was somedark and awful presenee inthe room— tbat band, and the look of herror deepened on | his face, Arthur Blac’man seized the slate, on which he hastily wrote, ‘Born so,” and handed it across the table. Lumley read the words, and changed color as he became conscious of the notice his strange | conduct had attracted. He continued his suppw without raising his eyes irom his plate, ; } f _ such a maimed hand, with that o and — s eet hy / PERSE OC ASS a “Queer fallow, that,” said Arthur. “ Who would have thought that such a little thing could frighten or shock anybody ¢” ‘itis very strange,” replied Mr, Blackman. ‘*T hope he is net wrong in his head.” The sight of that maftmed hand bad startled George Lumley into a train of thought that made him forget for the moment where he wes ' and what he was doing. He was carried back at once to the twiligls | scene in the grove near Yonkers Where he bud stood by the dead body of his murdered sister, and bad seen in the soft soil the pe of just a sméll and— shapely foot. He bad already noticed Arthur Blackman’s feet, and they fitted the image in bis mind, and there was the hand for which he had been seek- ing so long, over such a wide reach of country, and among such varied associations. Was it possible that this pleasant, gentleman- ly, and open-hearted young man was the villain who had slain bis sister? . Healso recalled the brief glimpses he had had of the well-dressed young man who had been so eager to board the train at the railway station on that fatal evening. He remembered him as tall and slim, like Arthur Blackman, but had carried away no impression of his features, ex- cept that he wa’ sure that he had worn no beard of any sort. But tall and slim aera men, with small feet and hands, were plentiful enough, and must be many who had lost the little finger of the left hand, though he had as yet met none of them but the tramp and Arthur Blackman, Even if this should be the man he was hunt- ing, his band alone would never fasten the crime upon him, and it was necessary to ‘learn the particulars of his past life, trusting to time and chance to worm bis secret from him, Lumley resolved that his stay in Vinson should not be a short one, that .he would kee bis faculties on the alert, and that he woul be careful to restrain any such emotion .a* migby possibly give Arthur Blackman the alarm. , At bedtime a man who worked on the place was called in, to pass the night in the house, and Mr. Blackman and bis son examined . weapons, of which they had a latge supply. hie pistol was offered to Lumley; but he showed own, and shook his head. The typo was sent to sleep in a large, garret* jike room over the kitchen, which was an ad- dition, or afterthought, at the rear of the square house, Perry Wessel was about to be sent to the barn, but he begged to be allowed to remain with his protector. t ‘‘’m afeared of the barn,” he said, ‘and I don’t want no bed nor nothin’. If I may sleep on the floor in Mr. Lumley’s room, I'll be very, very thankful.” Lumley was informed of this wish, and readi- ly agreed to it. So, when he went to bed, Weasel coiled himself upon a rug near the door, | The young typo was tired enough after ‘bis day’s tramp, but sleep was in * hurry to visit his eyelids. His thoughts were full of two dif- ferent objects— Lizzie Blackman’s face und her brother's left band—and it would be hard to de-- cide which interested him the most deeply. He | had never seen a face that attracted tim so: strongly, nor ever heard a voice that we: t to his. heart so easily. It was hard to believe that the owner of such a face and such a voice cv uld Le the sister of a murderer, and Arthur Plack- man did not look like a murderer, in spite of bis tell-tale hand and foot, When he thought of Lizzie Blackman’s face, he was ready to declare that his suspicions must be groundless; when he thought of her brother’s band, he felt thet he - must shun that fair face and forget thit sve © voice. The outcome of these contre ctory moods was the conclusion that he must be very careful what be said and did, and must watch wait patiently for circumstavees to a oy He or dispel his suspicions. a As be was thus thinking, Inlled by the boy’s — breathing and by the patter of a light rain on the roof, he fell asleep. As he slept he was seized bya dream thaf had the shape and form of a nightmare, He was oppressed by the feeling that there something that he could not see nor feel, or even guess at, but that was slowly and surely a | roe see oe a the Sotention of smothering . ey . m wher . 3 ad The presence stood by him and overshadow . him. Hetried to speak, to call fon help. byit « . not ufter a sound. He strove painfully to bores | the bonds of slumber, but was uneble to stir 2 or foot. He knew that he must rise and confngna vt iy ae = 4 ’ wr i, — 3 ee ult = Seed = | aad mr. a «| | | » SY ys . \ | =. A a