Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 397 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

son were about as ragged as they could be, and -hold together upon him. One glance was enough to show that he was one of the sharp, wide-awake boys who enliven the streets of New Yorkin various ways. Street Arabs, they are commonly called, but they could give points to any genuine Arab and still cut the ground from under him. ° . This particular boy was still by the window when a young lady, handsome and stylishly Cressed, approached in company with a male escort, a young man who was gotten up without regard to expense. They made a very striking, aristocratic appearance, but that she was not oblivious to the claims of poverty was shown as the young lady, seeing a beggar by the curb, went down into her pockets for money to relieve his wants. Then she started and looked surprised. ‘‘Dear me, Mr. Bertrand, I have lost my purse,” she said. - “More likely your pocket was picked,” said her escort, glancing about. ‘‘ Thieves reap a rich harvest in Fourteenth street crowds, Here is just the kind of a fellow that, would do it, now.” His last remark referred to the boy by the window. The latter had looked around at the young lady’s remark, and his gaze met Ber- trand’s anything but amicably as he was spoken of so unjustly. ‘* Who’re ye callin’ a feller?” he retorted. 4: ‘*T meant you, you scamp. What have you 4 in your pocket?” are “Last time I felt there, there wa’n’t nothin’,” the boy promptly replied. ‘*Turn your aeeemy inside out,” ordered Bertrand, sharply. “Not fur Joseph. S’pose I’m a paper collar, ter be turned twice a week? Not of I enows my business.” ‘You had better obey, or I’ll call an officer.” ‘‘Tm sure he has not taken the purse,” said the young lady. ‘‘He doesn’t look like that kind of a boy. Besides, he was innocently look- ing into the window.” ‘Glad ter see you’re a pusson o’ sech ripe jndgment, miss,” replied the boy. ‘‘ What do I want o’ a gaxee Take me to be a Rogue’s Galaxy gradooate? Not any fur oer on Dm a ’spectable merchant in a ’stablished business. Ask any o’ the crowned heads o’ finance w’at they think o' me. They'll tell ye Bob o’ the Bowery r. is above pickpocketin’.” : ‘‘This show of innocence won’t answer,” de- clared Bertrand. ‘‘ Miss Abbott, we must set- tle this matter. Ah! here is an officer now.” Sure enough, a blue-coated policeman was pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered around the trio, and he was soon made acquainted with the state of affairs. e looked fiercely at Bob o’ the Bowery. ** See here, ye young ragamuffin, hand over dhe purse sore I crack ye wan wid me club. Oh! I know dhe loikes av yez. Ill run ye in; that’s w’ot Ill do.” ‘ Bd a ye will ef ye say so, fer I observe ere bigger’n me by several pounds, ’specially round ther stomach. I wanter impress on x your mind, though that I'm a merchant in et | good standin’, an ef I'm jugged you'll see ther “oe crowned h o’ finance round ter bail me out. Bob diag Te his coolness well in this emer- gency, ut Bertrand and the policeman were so ead against him that all the young lady’s argu- ments were going unheeded when a new acvtor uve appeared on the scene in the shape of a well- ee dressed young man, who first bowed to Miss eee Abbott, who plainly recognized him, and then a turned to the policeman. —s ee as a witness for this boy, officer. I do not know how many pickpocketg there may be around here, nor who they are, but I - can swear that the boy has been nga ge ly by the window the last ten minutes. My at- tention was attracted by his interest in the fine things displayed there, and I watched him with amusement. He did not take the purse.” ‘Oh! I was sure of it, Mr. Redding,” ex- _ claimed the young lady. ‘‘ Poor little fellow, I am sorry you were unjustly accused.” ‘‘ Av coorse your worrud settles it, Mr. Rid- ding,” said the fat policeman, ‘“‘ but I still think dhe b’ye is a bad lot.” . T don’t!” declared Miss Abbott. ‘I think 7 ge an honest boy. Thank you for speaking, She bowed and smiled to Becicibag, ance? kindly — to Bob, and turned away. rtrand went th hér, but he scowled at both Redding and Bob before going. The crowd broke up, and only Redding re- mained near the boy. ' a ~~ ; v- a | meee! af =‘ . at? ie —s- , ; Pe yt Ps + - “A * A iw) my she “Sb, Pat 2 ‘ fat “a rf - Ni . “ . - *. oe - pr met . c? *. ha a : é p lar . shoes | Ay yy Bob o’ the Bowery. ‘“‘T owe ye one, boss,” said the latter, “ ye ever need a backer, jest call on’me. in front o’ Abraham & Isaacs’s store. Peanuts is my line, an’ ef I ain’t in my orfice, ag d- ner, Stumpy, will give ye ther tip whar I be.” ‘“So you run a peanut stand, eh?’ ‘* Me an’ Stumpy does.” ‘Ts Stumpy your brother?” ‘“Not any. He’s my pard, he is, an’ he’s all wool. I’m the purchasin’ agent o’ the firm, pe ; I’m a | legal doctor’s merchant 0’ the Owery, Se. you'll find me right | chalk.” | in being | while Stumpy tends the store. That’s ’cause he’s | a fire-eater. Ye kin see I’m a weak, delikit kid, but he’s a fighter, Stumpy is, an’ he kin wipe ther Bowery up clean with ther average bloke.” **'You don’t look mes delicate ;” and Redding ee he surveyed the stout young figure be- ore him. ‘‘*Pearances is deceptive; I’m chronic digestion. But, see yer, you knew them, didn’t ye?—I mean ther bloke who thort I was a Rogues’ Galaxy chap, an’ ther fine young female who thort I wa’n’t.” ‘Yes, I know ’em,” said Redding, shortly. ‘‘ His nibs, Bertrand, don’t feel sweet on ye.” hts knows I want none of his good will. ‘How ’bout hern?’ asked Bob, speculatively shutting one eye. eh?” ‘‘ You young rascal!” said Redding, laughing, ‘‘vou’ve got an eye, haven’t you? But, never mind; Miss Abbott is to marry Bertrand, so you and [ are left.” ‘““The fine female hed better git left, too. my ane o’ a good match. That sassy bloke ain’t am in him, he has, He’s got too much old Better look out fur him, or he'll try ter chaw eup. I got onter his nibs’ scowl; he’s a regu- ar pirate, he is. Wal, boss, I’m off. *Member that I owe ye one, an’ don’t fail ter call at ther ole stand ef ye want a backer. So long!” And Bob 0’ the Bowery walked away, musing as he went. “T’ve.ketched onter that racket. Redding, who’s a chap o’ the right stuff, isdead stuck on the gal, but thatsnake o’ a Bertrand has got the inside track. Is’pect it’s purty hard lines ter git left in sech biz, but mattermony is as unsart’in ez peanuts. Can’t depend on neither. Wonder why Bertrand wanted me tooken in fur gittin’ the leather? He knowed I never tuk it. I b’lieve that ere dude is a crook.” The boy walked on, taking inall that occurred by the way, and, having reached Union Square turned down Broadway. In due time he foun himself on Chambers street, near the Park, where he was accosted by a gray-haired man in garments which, though quite respectable, had the cut and fit of “ ’way back.” ee here, my lad, will you do an errand for me?’ Bob looked at the questioner, and saw that he was very nervous. His hand shook, and he spoke excitedly. ‘Wal, I’m open ter financial inducements.” “T want you to go toa drug-store and geta package of arsenic. I don’t know how expensive it is, but here is a two dollar note, and you can keep the change. About four spoonfuls of the arsenic will do.” ‘See hyer, boss, d’ye know ther natur’ o’ ther mineral you hev allooded to?’ asked Bob, suspi- ec a ‘‘T Jmow it is a deadly poison. What of that? I am so troubled with rats that I can’t endure it Longet re ‘Wanter extinguish ’em ‘Why, of course. Will commission ?” | ‘“Sartin—fer sure. I ain’t throwin’ no job over my shoulder this winter—not fer Joseph. Whar’ll I find ye?” ‘‘Come to the hotel yonder,” and the man inted to one of the several at the lower end of hatham street. ‘‘Ask for Adam Woodman, and bring the pegs yourself to Room 387.” ‘All right, boss; you'll find me loafin’ inter yer gorjus quarters in "bout ten minutes. hem rats can’t git no bulge on me—not fer Joseph.” Bob walked away with a business step, but, as soon as he was beyond Woodman’s sight, he winked knowingly. ‘Rats an’ p'izon! That seunds all right, but it’s an ole dodge an’ won’t work, That chap meditates changin’ his residence ter another do ye?” you undertake the spear. Suicide was writ all over his classical features. Did he take me fer a nhorn j out o’ Castle Garden that I couldn’t read what his shakes an’ tremors meant? Suicide, straight ez a string. But I don’t reckon he skips the ’arthly r with my help. Ill git some nice powdered chalk an’ let him simmer. ‘Spect no eee ee ———— ’ ™ } ih SERVER 8 ate - . = ee" ’ 4 + - Se an ¢ 4é wall a », - 4 a - e at es, ~ oe One “kid” could and did, and Bob was soon at the hotel with his prize. He had no trouble shown to Room 37, for the old man had clerk. He was soon knocking at the door. - | A voice directed him to enter, and he obeyed. Woodman sat at the table, on which were several envelopes, directed and sealed. He had evidently prepared for his trip to the here- after, but he was, if possible, more excited than ever. ‘‘Did you get it?” he nervously asked. ‘‘T did that, an’ hyar she is.” Bob passed over a neat package. He feared the absence of a label on it would arouse suspi- left proper word with the ‘licted with a | cion, but Woodman was too much excited to | think of anything ‘Hoss o’ a diff’rent color, | sary to kill a man?’ musingly asked Wood- of that kind. He unfolded the package with shaking hands and looked at the white substance inside. “T think the rats will not trouble me any more,” he said, with a sickly smile. ‘Just to think that a little of this innocent-looking stuff would kill a man!” “Heh ‘It'd knock him higher’n the Tribune spire.” “How much, do you think, would be _neces- man. ‘* T spect a pound would make him feel might uncomfor’ble,” gravely asserted Bob... ‘** Nonsense! ould a teaspoonful do it?” ‘‘ Wery likely it’d create an onpleasaniness.” ‘Well, never mind; it’s rats we're after. Would you like to see me set a trap for them?” “Tq enjoy it more’n gein’ to Harrigan & Hart’s an’ settin’ in ther fu’st floor, top.” . ‘* Then you shall. Nomorerats forme. Ha! al | The old man. seughed wildly, but Bob first winked behind his back and then became as rave as a judge as Adam turned about. The tter poured a little water in a glass and ther added a quantity of the su 9% poison. ‘‘ Bf convenient,” added Bob, “Td like what rats yer kill ter sell ter a Chinaman on Mott street, I’ve heerd tell that they eats rate, an’ ef it’s true, mebbe I kin make a dollar.” Woodman started, but his purpose did not waver. first rat!” He had raised the glass with a shaking hand, — and, at the last words, he swallowed the whole mixture at one gulp. . CHAPTER II. A DOSE OF ARSENIC. / x 4 ae x rs Xe” eae f = rat) 3 >. ly g cz 7 he . F . er iv Vell talk of that later, boy. Behold the an’ ef | drug-monger would give me arsenic ‘thout a oes perscreptive, but any kid kin git fk e's : - . pepe EL « , g 4} > -s — = - Pi. - we Pa ra i Op eo s “~ = “s * ‘ Z _“Brnoip the miserable rat!” added Wood- man, dramatically. se imagined the rodent was there. > , don’t you see I’ve swallowed it?” “Yas, I seed’ ye do it, but how in thunder dye expect the rat will gitit now‘ S'pect he's O- , in ter crawl down yer throat arter it? on New York rats.” you ain’t wal y, I’ve poisoned myself. There ‘* Stupid! are no rats in the case. wretch that is to die!” clasped his hands over his stomach. s By jingo! I ketch onter ther racket now!” and Bob brightened perceptibly. that you’d tooken a contrack ter cl’ar ther rats outer this hull hotel. Cricky! you’re a sharp ‘un, ole man; you’re no slouch. teeth in yer yooth, didn’t yer? know ye.” ‘Boy, this levity is unbecoming. taken the awful step which shall end m ed existence. Ina short time I shall man.” ‘*Sha’n’t I go fer a stomach pump an’ one 0” ther aldermen?” coolly asked Bob. ‘‘No, no; remain where you a te ea “ All right; I ain’t very busy, an’ I kin jest ez wal stay an’ see ye die ez not. Never see’d noth- in’ o’ ther kind, an’ it’ll satisfy a nat’ral curi- osity.” ‘‘'The deadly poison 1s wort are rending my stomach I’m proud ter wretch-— working. Sharp pains said W a tremulously, his hands still clasped over tial \ See part of his anatomy. ‘ “Hang onter it, boss; Pll back ye till my shoe-strings bu’st,” said Bob, with enthusiasm. ‘<The awful moment is here,” ‘‘ T hain’t noticed it. Which is it?” Cut yer eye- I am the miserable © ‘*T wondered . cw . * 4 Ef ye do, — Whar is he?’ coolly dernanded Bob o’ the — re: eae Bowery, looking under the bed, as though he And the old man dropped into achair and — — — I have eadead — 4 a “a f . ah” ‘ls J i i? fae if ‘‘T mean the moment of my death. Boy, I 'e 1a suffer terrib oe ed gray a he ae t ** Shoo! r ring fer a fire-’stinguisher. Bob advised, calmly crossing his legs. v2 | es so i ‘> - re <a _~ > wr - ‘ ’ — i. : j * a s ' , , : thin Tg Sie eS pL i + gee os oat . A | . ar } r te Fee, ie * ‘ - e f wae A” err 7? * i “abe » -* om.