Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 397 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

| -—s & grim and terrible battle that he fought in the dark ~—ss- water. He did not think of calling for help—and_ it | ss -was not likely help would have come promptly, } aby way—but he was beut ou saving the man who |. _ had used bim well, and he fought on grimly. ‘ The great trouble was to effect a landing on the Re cacy '. a 4 gd and when he utterly failed to do this, he began have grave doubts. Just at the critical moment, i however, he caught yo of a boat rocking by the = pier not far away, and hope again revived. : He swam that way, managed to Jift Gus into the t craft, and then, pulling himself after, sunk almost } exhausted to the bottom of the boat. It was two hours later when Bob o’ the Bowery, clad in a different suit, but still decidedly 1 agged, walked into Ben Dukes’s kitchen. The teamster had not yet returned, but Nan sat sewing by the light, which made her red bair look like threads of gold, and the wounded man lay on the bed. breathing heavily. ‘* Hello, Princess!”’ the Bowery boy saluted. “ w’ot sort o' a outfit ye got hyar? Set up a _horspittle on ta own hook? Who's this bloke wid claret all onter im? Looks ez though he'd been hevin’ a mill with Padd Ryan, or Jack Burke, b'gosh ’ “That's Crow McGookin.’ ss W’ot?”’ ‘*That’s Crow McGookin,”’ Bob walked to where he could see the man’s face. ‘* Ye're right ter a six-spot die, but w’ot fer do ye take in sech a red-handed assassinator as jie be, J'd like to know?”’ | ‘He used to work wi’ Pop Dukes afore he went bad, an’ when he came in wounded I jest tuk him in fer ter let Pop do with him ez he see‘d fit,” Nan explained. “TI s'pose that’s all hunk, though he orter be in quod, by jimminy! Don’t go no great stakes on /ha/ sort o’ Crow meat, Jdon’t. That his coat?’’ “Yas, an’ thar was some papers in it, but I put ’em away.” * Papers,eh? Lemme see 'em.” . “They ain’t ourn, an’ ‘tain’t right fer ter look at other folks'’s papers,” replied conscientious —-_ = %, 7 pe... '\)-,_. A e- x. ne or ee ~ . “> , 3 . . 0 rr ee eee ee a oy “ - an. ‘“* Not fer ord’nary people, but me an’ Pinkerton, an’ Byrnes, an’ other detectives, are obleeged by duty ter doit. Jess trot ’em out, will ye, Princess?” The argument was too strong to be resisted, and Nan brought the papers. Bob opened and began to read them. At first he was interested, and be soon jum up and cracked his heels together. “ Oricky! I’ve got ’em!” he cried. “Got w’ot?”” wonderingly asked Nan. ‘*Got ther means 0’ eloocidatin’ ther enigmatical knot o’ mystery. E pluribus hooray!" The young detective’s excitement was quite ex- cusable for even a brief survey of the papers had shown him that they were the same that had been stolen from Adam Woodman on the’ train—the di- rections by which the old man was to find his lost granddaughter. There was the letter from the sailor who was about to sail for a foreign port; and there were the various addresses of persons who would be able to tell him just who his granddaugbter was, and were she was. of course these latter points were not revealed in the papers, for it will be remembered that the sailor did not know them himself, but the addresses there- in set down would make the remainder of the work easy. “T'm goin’ ter freeze onter these helle le/tres. my- _ gelf,"? said the boy, coolly, as he shoved them’ into his pocket. ‘You wonr’t steal ’em, Bob?’ and Nan looked hast. *e. Not any, fer ne i Mister Crow McGookin __ gtoled them, an’ I only take em away fer ther use o’ ther right owner. Ef Crow gits his sensibilities back, say ter him he may call on B. Bowery, At- torny-at-Law, 1269 Wall street, ef he wants ‘em back. But I don’t 'magine he'll call fer a cent. 4 oh me pte a a got ee e went, and only stopped when he reached plumber’s shop. A youthful apprentice was just closing up, but, as he knew Bob, he delayed the ‘job for a little talk, which was prolonged to a good deal of talk. Bob had a scheme in his mind which re- quired Glass-Blower’s aid—‘his being the name by which he familiarly, and somewhat obscurely, called the gang plumber—but it was of such a nature that he talked long before he could make the ap- prentice see as he did. t was no wonder, for he was proposing a risky vehture, and Glass-Blower was an honest young fel- low. But what Bob said convinced him that the - proposed expedition was wholly on the square, so he | ‘ gave a reluctant consent. a. Bob went home and to bed, but he was astir at an early hour the next morning and, having got _ §tumpy in position on the Bowery, with his stock of ‘peanuts, he went to see Glass-Blower, ‘Te Soon after, the two youths—Glass-Blower was about eighteen years old—were passing along the street with a piece of lead pipe and several plumb- er’s implements in their bands. They went gat to the house where Bob be- lieved Adam Woodman was now confined, and he | boldly rung the bell. The door was opened by a vixenish-looking wo- man who looked at them suspiciously. “We're from Captain Truman,” said Bob,genially, “come fer ter maniperlate ther water-works.”’ There's nothing the matter,” she said, doubt- | fully. Jes’ w’ot Cap thinks, but yer see ther Board o’ - Healthis so durned afraid the cholera will skip over ther big pond, an’ fasten its awful grip onter New 4 +” * ad of re * . f. * = 7 Ot LL ee ee ———— 7 -_ ‘ ’ a oF o~ ee Bob o’ the Bowery. York, that we hev ter look right sharp. But, law- | off. Ye member that I was solid when ye wanted see, ‘twon't take more’n half a n’our.”’ The argument convinced the woman, who was ter ‘vacuate this hyar earthly tabernickle with arsenic. Wal, I’m ther same night-bl omin’ sericus very much afraid of cholera, and she permitted | | was then, an’I won't go back on ye fer a cent—not them to enter. Blower there before, with his employer, and told the two they could go up to the bath-room and do what was needed—for Captain Truman, the owner, would have to pay the bills, which accounted for her indifference. So up the boys went, exulting at the success of ea ruse, but the ba:h-room had no attraction for them. ‘* Now, then, we're inter it,’ said Bob, coolly, “ an’ we mustn’t let no grass grow under our ox-hide shoes. Jes’ you sorter stand guard, an’ I'll see in ther shake o’ a car-hoss’s left heel ef Adam is loafin’ *round hyar in quod.”’ “Go on,” said Glass-Blower, nervously. Bob o’ the Bowery kept cool, however, and in a very short time he had decided which room must be Adam's prison, if Adam was indeed there He tried the door, It was locked, but the key hung beside it, and the young detective turned the bolt and pushed open the door. Just then a step sounded on the lower stairs, ‘*Plumbers!"’ said a harsh voice. ‘‘ There ain’tno lumbers here. It’s a trick, an’ they’re spies. I'll reak their heads!”’ CHAPTER XV. THE KNIFE-THROWER AGAIN. THE young detective was rather startled for a mo- ment. The voice was not familiar to him, but it was clear that some suspicions person had resolved to make himself obnoxious. ob’s first impulse was to close and relock the door, so he and Glass- Blower could make a retreat to the bath room and assume an air of innocence, but it oceurred to him that the unknown would be sure to watch until they went away. No; if anything was to be done, it must be done quickly. . “4 + as slipped into the room which had been ocked. The light was poor, bothering him at first. but ina moment more, his name was eagerly spcken, and then his hand was clasped in another and larger one, He had really found Adam. f ‘* My dear boy,” began the old man, I am glad to see you—”’ “Tell it later,’ said Bob. hurriedly. ‘Ther buz- zard is onter us. Kin you fight?” *“Canl? For liberty, I could fight like a hero—” ‘Then do it at one’t. I’m inter ther crib, but ther crooks is onter my racket an’ I'll git throwed cold ef we ay here. Come, thar is three on us—we must lay that bloke up fer repairs.” He had pulled Adam out of the prison-room, and they emerged i in time to see an interesting sight. Bob’s ally had been a good deal alarmed b the approach of the unknown man. and, still stand- ing at the head of the stairs, ras making a pretense of innocently assorting his tools, but as the un- known continued to assert that he would do great destruction among the intruders, Glass Blower's alarm actually became so great that he became heroic. In other words, he decided that somebody ae ae to be licked, and he did not want to be the victim. ‘“What the fiends are you doin’? savagely de- manded the man. as he reached the top stair. ‘*Plumbin’,”’ replied Glass-Blower, with desperate calmness. ‘* You lie! You're no plumber.” By this time he was within reach, and with no thought but that of self-preservation in his mid, Glass-Blower struck out heavily from the shoulder. He was astout youth witha fair knowledge of hit- ting. and though the unknown was a perfect brute in the prime of life, the blow took the ruffian squarely in the stomach and sent him reeling ten feet away. There he dropped. speechless, and lay gasping. Such was the sight Adam and Bob saw. ‘*Come!” cried the latter. ‘‘ we wanter slide outer ares like a prize-beauty onter skates. Levant! Go! it!” He had caught Adam by the arm and was hurry- ing him down-stairs, but Glass-Blower remained to pick up his tools. Then he, too, followed. The sharp-faced woman stood in the lower hall, but she seemed paralyzed with surprise or fear. or a mix- ture of the two, and not a word did she say as they passed out. . A street car was passing. and as it went straight to his own humble home. Bob was shrewd enough to see that it furnished the safest way of making the trip. So all three boarded it and rolled away _ triumph, seeing no more of the people of the louse, Besides themselves the car had only two occu- pants, and as Adam showe4 aneRpee a nerve, no one suspected the danger from which he had just escaned. “I'm going at once to Superintendent Walling,” he said, in a low voice, to Bob. ; 1 Jes’ hold yer hosses fur a brief period o’ time, boss. I called onter ther super this mornin’ an’ he was jest head up in work, he was.. He told me fer ter call round ter-morrer, an’ he'd give me a hull day ter my interestin’ case. Jes’ wait till then, will yer? I’m gettin’ ther case inter shape.”’ - ‘Delay seems dangerous,” replied Adam, * but if it is as you say, I'll do it.” Kob put his hand on his coat over where rested the papers he had secured from Mr, Crow McGookin, and winked solemnly. ‘You kin depend onter me till my boot-straps fly a eo - ~ ———— crete myself,”’ he muttered. She remembered having seen Glass- ; fer Joseph!” Adam was very grateful to the boy, and he ree aed agreed to go to his quarters end remain while Bo looked around for points in the game. The artifice by which he had gained entrance to the prison house satisfied Adam that the boy was sharp enough to hold his own in the fight. We left Helena Abbott just as she entered the room occupied by Tomaso Silva and Bianca, and found Oscar Bertrand there, The meeting surprised her, and, if his face was a true index, he was not only surprised but sta) tiled. He looked at her mutely, and seemed to wish that he could take wings and fly. Miss Abbott bowed coldly to him, and then turned to Bianca. ‘Come and meet me, little girl,’ she said. ‘I should have called long ago. only | lost my purse. containing your address--lost it very mysteriously *” She locked fixedly at Bertrand as she spoke, and she believed she saw him wince, He passed his band nervously across his face and then. looking significantly at old Tomaso, added: “Ttis quite odd that you and 1] are on thesame errand. Selene. I did not suspect, u til now, that these good per ple were the same as those whose ad- dresses you showed me, just befcre your purse was. lost."’ * Are you helping them financially ?’’ coldly asked the 1 dy. ‘‘ Yes. Lam going to buy Silvaa new hand-organ,’” rep ied Oscar, making a bold push. ‘*I hope you will, but I did not before suspect that you would do a charitable act unless it was of a kind sure to get into the daily papers.”’ Bertrand’s yface seemedto freeze with horror. For some time he had suspected that Helena was liable to throw him over, and, after that remark, he had ground for additional fear. A peculiar interview followed, in which the two guests tried to outstay each other. Oscar had not come there with any charitable motive. On the contrary, be had bluntly told the old organ-grinder and Banca that the latter was heir toa considerable sum of money.and that he would put her in the way of getting it for just five thousand dollars, No decision had been reached, and he dared not let Helena remaiu alone with them until it saw set- tled. On the other hand, Miss Abbott was resolved to outstay him and learn why he bad been there. Neither won. Bertrand finally proposed that they go away together, and asthe young lady had really become very anxious to keep another appoint- ment she was neglecting. she did not refuse. They went, but her coldness kept Ber rend in a. fever. Was he really going to lose the girl? As they passed the corner of a certain strect a. man who had been standing there observed them: and smiled sarcastical y. ‘So Bertrand still has the inside track. Well, if Helena really prefers him, I suppose I shall have to take a back seat. She can follow the bent of her own will, but I very much fear she will live to repent. having given her fancy to him " The speaker was Gus Redding. Passing the last incident, which, it will be remem- bered, occurred previous to R« dding’s impromptu bath in the North River, we visit that gentleman the morning after his adventure—or at the same: time Bob o’ the Bowery was in the plumbing busi- ness. Gus had experienced no great trouble from his pl e in the river, though, only for Bob’s heroic aid, fhe would surely have drowned, The following morning he was a little stiff about the joints, for a. January swim is not agreeable to all people, but he felt well enough to pursue a task which had kept him busy for several days. He intended to make another effort to call on Bianca and Tomaso Silva, but the morning mail had brought him a letter which caused him to decide to- visit another house first; and that, too, one in the Italian quarter. The man he wanted to see was Leordi. and he was said to be quite badly wounded, . baving been assailed by one of the vile city “ angs.”’ e had no trouble in finding the house, but he was so inter: sted in looking at it that he failed to observe aman close at hand who was observing /1m most attentively. This m»n was the Padrone Prince, who looked with his black eyes un sually large to see a man there whom he supposed to be at the bottom of the North river. ‘“‘Malediction! has he escaped, or is this his ghost? But no; he was going to Leordi’s, and Briano is now there. Curse the luck, he will learn all, and then my jig will be up. Curse him, I say!”’ Marco stood rigidly on the corner, but his hands were clinched and his face had an ynnatural blueish tinge. He breathed very heavily, too. It was no wonder. No one knew better than he the danger of having Redcing talk with the wound- ed sailor, and he saw no way to remove him just then. He had tried it at night and failed. He dared nct try it by day. | And, sitnated as he was, he saw his position as Prince of Mulberry street seriously endangered, He was more likely to be a peat age at Sing Sing. ‘‘T must get home, and prepare for flight or to se- “I will fight the mat- ter out, but if the worst comes, | must have some~ CAC KML wooly Oral evn Cette ee Ses amced Briano. 7 4 “i, > a e “<@ * oe > ‘ ena