Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 282 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

} OO Sl th te a oe Se ees Os Grasping his stick firmly, be approached the honse. It was a two-story b dng, but the upper part was much dilapidated, and the win- dows of the lower part were closed with board shutters. Without stopping to knock, he lifted the aes the door at once yielded, and he stepped . The room that he entered was dark, dirty and bare, with the exception of a rickety table, a broken chair, and an old straw bed that lay on the floor, Neither Three-fingered Jack nor any other person was to be seen. He stepped forward to the middle of the room, the floor gave way beneath him, and he knew that he was falling, CHAPTER IX. MORE TRAPS THAN ONE. THs typo fell but a little distance, striking on his feet, and tumbling over on a hard earthen “? Before he could arise he was seized by two men, and his hands and feet were securely bound. Then he was lifted up and seated on a box, and the dim light of a lantern enabled him to take a view of his surroundings. The cellar into which he had fallen was dark and caps about half-filled with boxes and bar- rels, and had the appearance of being used as a storehouse. A trap-door that hung down from above, swinging on hinges, showed him how he had been dumped into the cellar, and a little light came through the opening. His captors were Three-fingered Jack, and another man of the same quality and style. While the other raised the trap-door and fas- tened it with a bolt, Three-fingered Jack stood in front of his prisoner, and surveyed him with a look of malignant exultation. “Think you’re smart, don’t you?’ he said. **Mebbe you are, but you ain’t smart enough fur me, sonny. Nobody but a durned fool would ha’ tumbled into sech a trap as this. I’ve got you now, and mean to settle old scores afore | wipe out w’ot’s on the slate.” Lumley made no reply, but gazed defiantly at the man’s dirty face. ‘Fine feller you are,” continued the tramp, “to kerry off my propper That boy’s wuth too much to me to be let go, and you won’t see him no more—not, never, no, more, sonny, Sweet kind of a Christian you are, to go fur to bu’st up my little game. ‘Spect you reckoned I'd be sent up fur five or ten year on that job. But I ain’t, you see. Joe Blackman is too much of a gentleman tio be that hard on a poor feller like me. He knows what side his bread is but- tered on, he does.” Lumley thought he could give a guess at the meaning of these words; but he said nothing, and the tramp resumed his taunts. **So you're a-playin’ of the deaf an’ dumb racket; but that’s all the good it’lldo you. Do you reckon I don’t know what kind of a lay you’re on? I ain’t a bad hand at guessin’, I ain’t, and thar’s more’n one to take a band in that game. You needn’t ter think you kin git out o’ this fix, ’cause you're as safe as a fly in a drum, and Buck and Pll go ‘long and tend to our business. Come, Buck!” George Lumley was by no means disposed to let the game end in that style. Lack of cau- tion had led him into a scrape, but he meant: to try what pluck and skill could do to get him out of it. Three-fingered Jack picked up the lantern and the two men liapeeees behind a pile o boxes, leaving the cellar in total darkness, Tho tramp had told him that he was ‘‘as safe as a fly in a drum,” but he doubted that, and at once began to consider the question of escape. His feet and hands were tied with leather thongs, and it oceurred to him that leather, though strong, cannot be easily tied in a secure knot. Glancing down at his hands, he believed that he could untie those knots with his teeth. If not, his teeth ought to be sharp enough to gnaw the thong. Why had not the fools, he thought, tiled his hands behind his back, so that he could not get at them? If be had been incau- tious, the tramp had also been careless, Although his sight had become accustomed to the darkness, i could not see the knot with any degree of clearness, and was obliged to feel it with his mouth. It proved te be a clumsy series of comrzon hard knots, and he had not much difficulty in getting them loose. This was Only a question of time, and when his bands were free he easily cast off the bonds from his feet. fe his liberty; but, what should he do It would be an easy task to open the trap- [ I CC i A en tt ae re ee er ee we door and get out of the cellar by the route that had brought him into it; buf he was not quite sure that he wanted to get out just yet. fingered Jack had spoken of Weasel in such a manner as to cause Lumley to believe that the boy was in his possession. If so, might he not be rescued? The young typo, moreover, was of an adventurous disposition, and believed in | his ability to extricate himself from dangerous situations. He wanted to “get even” with the tramp who had entrapped him, and was anxious | to explore the mystery that lay under the con- versation of his captor. He felf in his hip pocket for his pistol. It was still there. He was surprised that his cap- | tors had not disarmed him, and was satisfied that the balance of carelessness was not against him, though he had so easily tumbled into a i is first thought was that he would conceal the pistol where he could easily reach it, await the return of Three-fingered Jack, and then as- tonish him to some purpose. With this view he carefully laid the revolver down behind the box on which he was seated. As he did so, his fingers came in contact with another pistol. Considerably surprised at this discovery, he lifted both weapons, restored his own to his hip pocket, and examined the other. It was a six- chambered revolver, and there was something about it that added to his surprise, There was some carving on the stock that felt like lettering. On the stock of his own pistol—that which was missing when Weasel disappeared—he had carved his own initials, and his fingers told him that the lettering he was then feeling was simi- lar to that. This might be a mere freak of his fancy: but he could easily satisfy himself. He had some matches in his pocket, one of which he lighted, and examined the pistol. Yes, there were his initials, G. L., carved on the stock. It was his pistol—there could be no doubt of that. The presumption was that it had been in Weasel’s possession; that the boy had been in that cellar, and that he had concealed the pistol where Lumley found it. If it had been taken from him, the one who took it would have kept it. It was also reasonable to suppose that Weasel was still in or about that building, and his friend was not inclined to abandon the pursuit when he was sure that he had found the trail. He put the two pistols in his pockets, picked up bis stick, and started on a voyage of discoy- ery. The two tramps had disappeared behind a pile of boxes, and there he found a broken door, through which he passed, and entered another underground apartment. By means of a faint light from some unseen source he perceived that this room, like the other, was nearly filled with boxes and barrels. But he also saw a plain and stout staircase, lead- ing to the floor above, and knew that by that route the tramps must have made their exit, He determined to follow them, and to explore the tenement, in the hope of finding Weasel. Quietly he ascended the stairs, and found a closed door at the head of thelanding. Here he stopped short, for the sound ef the voices that came from within startled him. There were evidently two men on the other side of the door, and he was sure that one of them was Three-fingered Jack. The voice of the other he thought that he recognized, to his great surprise, as that of Mr. Blackman, Arthur's father, because it bad a peculiar low but pene- trating tone. Directly be was convinced of the correctness of this surmise. “T tell you now, Joe Blackman,” said the tramp, ‘‘ you hain’t got no call to be a-scoldin’ of me, or findin’ fault with w’ot Isee fit to do. Ef you keep your own self straight and out o’ - trouble, it’ll be as much as you kin ’tend to.” | Three- | prove A a Se LLL LL LL TC ttt ema ttt ’ ’ : - 9 } Oe ome o< wise 8 ee eee am ee + nt eee in, as I don’t want him to flud bis way back to the place he once came from. If this should be the same boy—” ‘* But it ain’t the same boy, Cain’t you nexer take a gen’leman’s word fur nothin’? I recRon thar’s lots o’ lost boys floatin’ about. Thisis a kid [I’ve been on the track of goin’ on two seasons, and I’ve jest got him to rights.” a: “‘T am afraid you have got him to wrongs. { That young printer will be hunting him up, and he is sure to make trouble,” ** You don’t need to fret about that chap. I’ve - settled his bash.” ' + ** How so?” ‘*He came over to Pulltight on that very errant, and I led him on, and coaxed him into this shop, and dumped him througb a trap inter the cellar.” ‘** What!” exclaimed Mr. Blackman, in a tone that showed great excitement and displeasure. “ That's jest w’ot I did, old man, and itis best for all hands to git that chap hived. Don’t you know that his name is George Lumley, and that he used to live at Yonkers?” .G ‘**'Yes; but there is no sense in stirring him ‘ up. I let him go along about his business, and oA you should have done the same.” . ‘* But he don’t need to be mixin’ up in m business, and I owe bim a grudge fur w’ot he’s done to me afore this.” ‘You ought to be careful how you get me i into trouble, Jack,” said Mr, Blackman. ‘* You , seem to forget that I let you off when you were taken at my house,” * That be blowed!” exclaimed the tramp. “I _ don’t owe you no thanks fur doin’ w’ot you bad todo, I know too much of you and your ways fur you to come down on me,” : ‘You had better be careful, Jack Snell,” said : Mr. Blackman, with rising anger. ‘ Don't pro- oy voke me too far, or you will be sorry for it. IT = know just how much you know, but I also kuow that I can jan ead you out of my way. and nobody will be the wiser for it,” “Jest you try it, old twist-an’-turn-about,” replied the tramp. ‘‘Thar’s more’n one way to | blow the gaff, and it ain’t safe fur you to fool with me. But you're a-raisin’ a big row about — nothin’. 1] take the boy away, and totber chap won't bother you. I’ve got him, as I told him a bit ago, as safe asa fly in a drum, and Ai now I'll go down and takea look at him.” } **T hope you will be careful, Jack. I will © have to ship off a lot of these gos to-night, Pwr and this place must be kept quiet.” o—« As soon as Lumley heard the tramp say that he was going to look after his soner, he Ma slipped down the stairs, and entered the front room of the cellar, where he hastily moved a ‘a box under the trap door, pulled out the bolt fia) and let the trap falldown. Then be concealed ~t9 himse)f behind a pile of boxes, and awaited the © arrival of his enemy. ’ tat CHAPTER X, wee SPOILING A CIRCUS, + THREE-FINGERED JACK came into the cellar room with his lantern, and stopped and stared, = It needed but a glance to tell him that his “% prisoner was missing, and the condition of the trap showed how the escape had been effected. . e was not stricken dumb ty his astonish- ment, but poured forth for the space of ten min- te utes sucha stream of profanity as might well have caused the air to turn blue. He examined the place with his lantern, and discovered nothing but the thongs with which be had bound Lumley’s feet and hands lying on a the ground floor. | Fah He stamped on the scraps of leather, and spit | out another stream of profanity, hot enocughto * “ ee ee set fire to the flooring above. vre Having relieved himself by this exercise, he 0. raised the trap-door and bolted it, ri ** This looks like lockin’ the stable door arter the hoss is stole,” he said; ‘but thattrapneeds to be shot, anyhow. Durned ef this ain’t the wi wust kittle o’ fish I’ve b’iled lately. Efoldman ~~ Mr. Blackman seemed to take no offense at | Blackman knowed what had come off, he'd jest foe the tramp’s familiar manner and insulting tone, | go ravin’ crazy. I’m mad eneugh, my ownéelf,, -— re but answered him quite meekly: to bu’st my gizzard; but I’ve got to git even ae ** Well, Jack, this is my place, and I must be | with somebody, and my only show is to take it 4, careful that nothing is done to bring the Vinson , outo’ the boy. I meant to give him a scorcher waif people down on it, and I am afraid that this | fur runnin’ away, and now his hide ll hev to | ittle business of yours may make trouble. That | pay for this other go.” <3 is the reason I ask you why you have picked up that boy and brought him over here.” “Just because it’s in the line o’ my business, Thar's money in the boy fur me, and I mean to keep him ontil I kin git out o’ him all he’s wuth tome. He hain’t got nothin’ to do wi’ you, and you don’t ought to grumble.” } ‘**T am not so sure of that,” replied Mr. Black- man. ‘There isone boy that Iam in:erested s ‘ ‘ — | The tramp started to leave the cellar, but ns, stop d and looked around, } ey ‘ an fetch him down here,” he said. “ This is eA the best place to salt him, and his yells won’t be < likely to rouse any of the neighbors or anybody else. Jerushy! won't | pay him up fur that — aie time he plugged mein the stummick?” = = - He set down bis lantern and hurried out. » * ' <- ~ ~€omicbooks.com = a ot * —— Ty