Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 397 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

**'You made some singular statements; state- “ments which they denied in every particular. ‘You left the impression that Mr. Bertrand had kidnapped his grandfather.” s Wasn’t aweer 0’ that. I knowed I tuk ther impression thar, but I tho’rt I tuk it away with me, too. Sol really left it, did I?” ‘“You know what I mean. Now, how much of your story was true?” Miss Abbott earnestly asked. Bob winked several times before he ventured to answer. How far could he trust Bertrand’s lady-love? He was anxious to get in a blow at Oscar, and at the same time help Gus Redding, but it would not do to be rash. ** Come, you can trust me,” the lady‘added. . ** What ef I should sorter dim Oscar’s luster?” **T only ask that you tell the truth.” **'You’re to marry him.” ‘“AmI? I’m not so sure of that!” Helena re- torted. *“Oh! ye needn’t ter please me, fer ther fact is, me an’ Oscar don’t jest cotton ter each other, we don’t. Ad&m didn’t like him neither. He said, Adam did, that the Bertrands was holler, mean, dec’itful, treacherous, an’ was arter his money.” ‘* Did he say that?” * Every word on’t.” ‘‘What about Mr. Woodman’s granddaugh- ter, the little girl?” ** Wot little girl?” craftily asked Bob. “Why, Mr. Bertrand’s cousin.” “Oh! I think I ketch yer meanin’, W’ot about her? Wal, that’s jest what Adam’d like ter know. Kin you give any p’ints?” *“No. I only know that there is such a girl, but do not know where sheis. The Bertrands don’t know either.” ‘* Did they tell you so?” sé Yes. 7? “Tl bet my silk tile ag’in’ a church that they lie.” ! ‘*‘ Dear me, why do you think so?” ‘*From *pearances. Now, I take you ter be about ez squar’ ez they usually build folkses, an’ I don’t mind givin’ ye a few items. Ye see, Adam hez got a boodle ter leave ter some ’un, ef he does hail from ther rooral deestriks.. W’ot he hankers fer is ter make ther kid his heiress, but he “lows as how ther Bertrands i§ goin’ fur his poultry-farm red-hot, detarmined ter shet ther gal out. An’ I s’pect Adam is right, too an’ that’s why Oscar, ther dude, has kidnapped onter ther ole gent.” ‘¢ Has he kidnapped him?” *°S my opinion he hez.” ‘Did the men who took Mr. Woodman away from the hotel say that they came from Mr. Bertrand?” ‘‘No. They wouldn’t be so jolly green as that. But ye see I was onter ther racket, an’ I give it ter Oscar that way jest ter see how it ’d hit him. Mebbe you reccollect how it did hit him. He got red an’ white, an’ was mightily flustered.” Miss Abbott was watching the boy carefully, giving due heed to every word, and was muc interested. ‘In plain words,” she said, ‘* you think it is Mr. Bertrand’s scheme to keep the little girl from inheriting the old gentleman’s money?” ‘* Kk’ rect ter a six-spot die.” “Then he is an unscrupulous villain!” was the energetic comment, and Helena’s eyes sparkled with indignation. * Jess my erpinion, b’gosh!” The Bowery boy began to suspect that Miss Abbott had sought this interview with the sole object of satisfying certain doubts she enter- tained regarding Bertrand, and Bob was not slow to help along the suspicion, hoping to thereby better the chances of his friend, Gus Redding. But when the lady tried to get all the details of the case, our young friend was not so com- municative. Pleasant as Miss Abbott seemed, she might be a spy for Bertrand, and Bob kept his points to himself like a veteran detective. hile they talked the carriage had rolled up Broadway, passed around Union Square and re- turned on its own track. It was plainly the in- tention to leave the peanut-merchant where he had been taken up, but he anticipated matters and, just as they passed Great Jones street, sud- denly expressed a desire to get out. He was accommodated; the carriage turned and passed rapidly up Broadway, and then Bob dodged into Bond street. ‘* Thar they be!” he muttered. He referred to two men who were passing along ahead of him, and whom he had recog- nized as Oscar Bertrand and Crow McGookin. He had seen them from the carriage window, 99 beg on the streets for him. Bob o’ the Bowery. — a was no wonder he longed to be on their rack. That he could follow them many minutes un- observed was not probable, and he was pleased when, after turning one or two corners, they had entered a saloon. Still, how was he to hear what they said? The trick by which he had spied upon the Prince and his friends would not work in this case, for no Patsy was at hand to loan his implements for a ‘‘ shine.” One thing was in Bob’s favor. The day was warm, and the heavy saloon doors had been thrown open, leaving only swinging screen- ately He promptly peered between the slats of ese. What he saw rather surprised him. Bertrand and McGookin had sat down at a pe close at hand, and with them was Mr. Lije ‘olf. Then it flashed upon the boy detective that in Wolf and McGookin he saw the two men who had decoyed Woodman away from the hotel. The clerk’s description had not been full, but they answered it as far as it went. ‘*T’m onter ’em!” was his terse comment. Next, he discovered that the three men were so near the screen doors that he could overhear what they said, and he stood still and listened. As long as no other customer passed in or out, | and his legs were not observed below the screen, he was safe from notice. ‘*T confess I was somewhat nervous,” said Bertrand, ‘‘and I wanted to know just how matters were going.” ‘Well, as Oi told yez,” said MeGookin, * Oi failed wid Redding. He used his fists loike a Sullivan.” ‘We will attend to him later. Let me hear Wolf’s report. Is this new cage for Woodman secure?” ‘**AlLO. K.,” returned Lije. ‘‘It’s solid, and the best of it is no one will think of looking for him there. If the boy blows to the police, and they believe his yarn—which is not likely, for such kids don’t get much credence from the cops —they will naturally suppose that, since Prince Marco is m the game, the old man is still in the Italian quarter.’ ‘* Well, I’m glad he is out of it.” “Oh! he’s secure enough,” declared Wolf. ** And his jailers are faithful?” ‘** Yes; [ll go bail on that.” ‘*T want you to caution Gambora to look out for that boy. I’ve seen him, and I dread him more than I would a detective. He’s got an eye like a needle, and there is no one sharper than a New York street boy. Tell the Prince to make sure he isn’t dogged by him.” ‘** How about Nan?” mentally questioned Bob o’ the Bowery, with a wink. ‘* The Prince will use due care. Besides, Mc- Gookin and I will soon dispose of the kid,” Wolf asserted. ‘* Attend to it as soon as possible. Next, what of the girl, this Bianca? Does she suspect?” Bertrand asked. ‘**Not a thing. She’s a simple little creature, considering the wild life she a led, and don’t imagine that the noble blood of the Connecti- cut gentleman flows in her plebeian veins.” The three men laughed at this compressed rit. ‘** Well, keep your eye on her,” said Bertrand, buttoning his coat. ‘If she should disappear from our sight it would complicate matters. Look after all these points, men, and I won't spare money. As for me, I must not be seen in this locality too much. Ill take a Broadway stage and go up-town.” The trio had arisen, and Bob promptly beat a retreat to avoid discovery. He was in high spirits. ‘* ve got onter this O. K. Bianca is the heir o’ Adam, jest ez I thort, am’ ther hull racket is illoominated by a ’lectric light. Now, it only remains ter hunt Adam up ag’in, and rescue him from ther inemy.” CHAPTER X. THE PADRONE’S PROPOSITION. THE Padrone Prince was walking along the street. awe. He had made himself a power in Mul- berry street, but not a valued one. committed a misdemeanor in the meaning of law, Marco Gambora was soon aware of it, and ; from that time he held the man in his yet, and, however scanty the man’s earnings, helhad to contribute to the fund which kept the Prince in idleness and good clothes; and if the criminal was the father of children, the latter were, in some cases, taken by the Prince and sent out to Such being the case, Marco was not loved by / Men and women looked at him with | If an Italian | 9 — his countrymen in general, but he kept the greater part of the hard characters in the colony on his side, and no one dared revolt. The city authorities had from time to time set a heavy foot on the padrone system as practiced in the Italian quarter, but Marco’s career had been comparatively brief, and so far he had es- caped molestation. n the present occasion he paused when he reached a certain house, hesitated a moment, and then entered without ceremony. He ascend- ed two flights of stairs, and then abruptly open- | ed a door aad entered. He saw arough attic room at oneside of which Bianca sat, sewing. She started up at sight of him, her face assuming a frightened ld@ok. ‘*Don’t rise, fair Bianca,” said the Padrone, | airily. ‘‘ Keep your seat, and let us forget the difference in our worldly stations and meet | Simply as friends.” ‘**' Tomaso is not in,” faltered Bianca. “lam aware of the fact. I saw him away with his organ. So you stay at to-day and act the frugal housekeeper?” ‘*T—I am sewing.” ‘*So I can see,” laughed Marco. ‘‘ Well, I am glad to see we meet as friends. I come to say that I am sorry for my hasty course last night. I ought not to have driven you out of | the house, but I blamed you for not prevent- _ing the escape of that boy, and my hot temper | carried me too far. Gladly will I receive you | back in my house, and, in any case, I beg your pardon for driving you out, Bianca. How could do so to one I admire so much as you, I don’t know.” ‘““I—I— We are doing very well here, and think we shall stay,” said the poor child, look- ing toward the door in the vain hope that some one would appear to rescue her from this inter- view. ‘* Perhaps you may as well until we are mar- ried,” said the Prince, blandly. “Oh! sir, don’t speak of that. ong ome Forgive me, but I cannot think of being married. am not yet fourteen years old.” ‘*Aren’t other girls marrying at that age every day about us?’ demanded Marco, There was truth in what he asserted. Italians of Mulberry street have made them- selves notorious by their early marriages; a practice which seems no less than actual crime to our American minds. Gambora was not The | proposing a solitary case. The daily press re- | cords frequent instances where girls who are | mere ps Somes go before some qualified magis- trate, accompanied by their misguided parents, to take a step which seems to us to be like plac- ing April where August belongs. ‘rightened Bianca could find no words with which to reply to the last argument. ‘* Now, let me talk plain common-sense,” con- tinued the Padrone. ‘‘ You are half American, aren’t you?” * Os: ar.” ‘**'You don’t know who’were your parents?” “ANo, sir.” ‘What if I find them, or, at least, your rela- tives, and place you among kind friends?” The girl looked at him sharply. ‘*Do you know who they are?” The Prince laughed. ‘*Soft and slowly. I want my reward fixed before I tell too much. Suppose I find relatives for you who are kind and rich? Suppose I make you a fine lady, with silk dresses, diamonds, and all the money you could spend— anda carriage and two black horses, to drive through the Park. How would that suit you?” Marco chuckled, as though he believed the | picture to be irresistible, but Bianca was not so much impressed. ‘*T guess they don’t care much for me, or they would come and get me.” ‘** What if they don’t know where you are?” ‘Then you ought to tell them.” Gambora laughed. ‘*So I will when you marry me.” “Tm not going to marry you, and you needn’t say anything more about it,” was the spirited reply. y “Ah! Do you know what becomes of people who make me angry?” Bianca’s rosy cheeks paled. ‘*T can’t help it,” she faltered. ‘You must and shall. Come, I am giving you a chance to leave poverty and be a fine lady. All it costs you is to take me along with you. I’m going, too. We won't say anything ee 'more about this now, but Ill give you time to | think about it. I feel sure that you will come to your senses soon, and agree to please me. If you say yes, I will take care of you, treat you kindly, and give you all the fine clothes and os