Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 426 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

Gril Guyandotte, however, stalked on into the great gloomy hall, fearlessly, **Let him go!” thought Sam. ‘I'd rather snort ef je'd git lambasted alongside the jaw!” A moment later, a startled and fierce cry was heard, and the Gypsy reappeared, in hot haste. **Hillo! what’s the defickelty?”’ Sam demanded, “Quick! bring the light!’ Gril gasped, drawing his revolver. ‘*Some one struck me, curse him!”’ They hurriedly entered the hall, and Gril led the way into the parlor, Here Sam turned on his light, at full head, and flashed it about the room. But. although they all gazed searchingly about, the offender was nowhere to be seen, nor was there any obstacle in the room behind which a person eould be hidden, without risk of detection. ‘* He's gone, curse him!”’ Gril cried vengefully. * Who?” demanded Sam. ‘Why, the man who slapped me!” “Git out. It wasn’t no man. I got slapped in the same way, last night, an“ on looking around in- stant)y, there wasn’t a soulin the room. There’s no way 0’ gittin’ round et, Gril—et were a ghost that hit you, an’ he kin hit like a prize fighter, too,” ‘*Ghost be hanged! There is no such thing as ghosts! Give me that lantern!” ’ He took the light, and examined the room care- fully. He sounded the walls, and the floor, looked be- hind the pictures and furni‘ure, and finally uttered an execration: “Jt beats the devil!’ he declared, ‘“ There’s no explanation to the mystery in here, that I can see, Come! Let’s proceed. If there’s any secret ‘com- partments to the house, yoy can bet I'll find them!” ‘Pf you do, yer eyes will have to be sharper than I think they are,’ was Sam’s opinion. ‘I’m bettin’ 1 kin look as fur inter a bowl 0’ eyester soup as any one else, but I’ve been left on seein’ ther eyester, many a time. But, steer ahead, me boy. Mebbe you're more of a ferrit than | take yer ter be.” They went over the same course that Sam_ had pursued the night before, visiting the remaining rooms on the first floor, then exploring the cellar, and finally the upper stories. The cellar, in particular, Guyandotte spent some time in examining, but nothing was found to indi- cate that the place was not all bona jide cellar. Three hours of rigid examination of the premises supplied but one re:ult—that of deciding there were no secret compartments, cellars, or other places of concealment, where one or more persons could exist in hiding. ‘Well, I’m satisfied on one pcint!’? Guyandotte announced, finally, when they had gained the piazza once more. ‘‘Old Jacobi is no prisoner around the premises.” ‘*'He ain't?” ‘**Not much! He has been spirited away. Our search has been s0 thorough, that, were he secreted fag pl we should have been sure to discover m. *T don’t know about that. the slap on yer jaw?” ‘*That? Well—well, that is the only thing that mystifies me, It must be some person was in the room and dodged out. before I could see him.” * Thet langwidge an’ logic might work on Fegees, an’ sech like, but 1 don't tackle to et, fer a cent. When I got slapped, I wheeled around quicker’n a cat could wink ‘er eye at a spring chicken, an’ I was allalone, Ltell ye, I believe theplace is haunted, an’ ther ghosts aire like cannibals—allus on the gobble,” **Nonsense. There are no ghosts. Neither have I heard any of their vocal manifestations yet, either.”’ As if to give the lie to his words, there pealed forth, at this juncture, a shriek so blood-curdling yo awful, that even Guyandotte started, with a oath. Thar! now ye hear it!’ Sam cried in triumph. ** That war the ghost gittin’ up on his mad, cause you ‘lowed he warn’t er co’poration by hisself. Or, mebbe ye think et was er Thomas Cat, or some strange angel out serenadin’,”’ Guyandotte did not answer, but drew his revolver again, and looked atit to satisfy himself that it was in working order, The yell of the disturbed spirit, whether it was embodied or disembodied, had sounded down from above them, and it was plain it had not been uttered from the ground floor. ‘You stay here with the light!’ Gril ordered. ** I'll be cursed if I don’t find out what the racket is before I leave the house. He pulled off his heavy boots and leftthem on the piazza, then, with bis weapon in a firm grasp, he tip- toed into the hall, and the last seen of him he was going up-stairs. Sam Slabsides chuckled softly as the Gypsy disap- peared, ‘“‘Just wait a bit,’ he said to Floss. ‘Bf the spooks don’t skeer the life out 0’ him et will be a queer thing to me, I tell yer.” re **I hope he won’t get into trouble,” Floss replied, “or turn up missing, like Felix did, for without him mother and I would fare badly. He has been very kind to us, sir.” ‘Ob! he’ll not git lost, like Felix, fer he’s gone up above, an’ there ain’t any way fur him to get down except by the stairs. Ef he don’t come down ’em three at a time, Iin off my guess.” Just then from the upper and front portion of the house there broke forth a wild, demoniac laugh, as if some one were in triumphant glee over something that had happen: d. ‘Guess Gril must be ticklin’ ther ghost!" Sam ested. ee On! maybe the ghosts have captured him!” How d’yer ’count fer Sam Slabsides, the Beggar-Boy De sem F _ acy SS “ iD & : pat 5g af ” ’ = we Ms ” “ a . IRS ere Ta rar He ae aa Oe a a ee ‘ ‘ : - 4 a4 a MY / : wy . Floss added, clasping her hands anxiously. ‘‘ Oh! what wou/d mamma do if Gril were lost?”’ ‘*Don’t fret, Floss. Ef the feller don’t come back purty soon, we'll go and investigate.”’ Then they sat down on the steps and waited. Five minutes passed. All remained silent within and without the man- sion. The stillness finally grew so impressive that Floss laid her hand upon Sam’s shoulder, ‘**Oh! Sam,’’ she said, ‘‘1 fear something really has happened to Gril. \on’t you go see?” ‘Wait abit. He hasn’t had time to look into half the rooms yet. He’ll be down purty quick.”’ But fully five minutes more passed without the seeing or hearing anything more of Guyandotte; theo Sam did not offer to delay any longer. “Coma!” he said, rising, ‘We'll go up and see what yer Gypsy fnend is up to, anyhow.” They entered the hall, and with the lantern to guide them, ascended the stairs. At the top of the first flight they paused and lis- tened, but could hear no sound of footsteps, nor, in- deed, any sound at all, ‘*Mebbe he’s layin’ in wait fer the spooks,’’ Sam suggested, although, in truth, he was not free of misgivings as to Guyandotte’s strange absence. ‘‘He want’s ter hear where the yell comes from, so he kin blaze away. We'll see which room he’s in.”’ They visited every room and looked into every closet of the second story, but Gril was nowhere vis- ible, They then ascended to the third story and began their investigation there, And it was only when they searched the last room that Sam’s hope gave way to unbounded sur- rise, Guyandotte was nowhere to, be found, nor any trace of him. He was notin the second story! He was not in the third story! What did it mean? | Had he been mysteriously swallowed up, the same as old Felix Jacobi? “Oh, dear! oh, dear! Where is Gril?’ exclaimed Floss, wringing her hands and alfnost erying. ‘I told you something would happen, Sam!’’ Sam puckered up his lips and looked puzzled. ‘‘Yer can set me down fer a red-hot stove-lid, ef there ain’t something all-fired queer about this mat- ter,” he replied. ‘*‘Mebbe, tho’, we’re cryin’ afore the milk is spilt. Gril might ’a’ tip-toed down-stairs en’ goin’ ter searchin’ ther rear o’ ther house, *’thout our hearin’ him. Come!”’ They hurried down-stairs far more anxious than when they had ascended. When they reached the ground floor, a glance showed them that Guyandotte was not on the veranda, The lower rooms were then all subjected to a searen, but to no purpose; no Guyandotte was to be ound, Thoroughly excited, now, Sam rushed to different 9 of the house, and called the Gypsy’s name, po in vain; the echo of his voice was all the answer e rot. ‘Oh! dear! oh! dear!’ Floss cried, “what shal/ we do—oh! sir, what shall we do?” and she burst in- to tears. d “What shell we do?” Sam _ replied, as they once more sought the piazza. ‘ Why, I &’pose you'll do what you've allus done, won't ye?” “Ob! sir, but you don’t understand, There will be trouble with tne Gypsies if Gril cannot be found. You see, the majorityof them are notin favor of mother’s being their queen, ’cause she has always kept them from stealing. It was only because they fear Gril that they have not turned mother off, be- fore this. If they find Gril has disappeared for good, we shall be turned out of the camp, on the pitiless world, friendless and without means to help ourselves!’ ‘Ye don’t say!’’ Sam exclaimed in answer. * Well. if that’s the racket, don’t let it worry yer little head, one bit, Et aire afac’ as plain as er elefant’s nose, thet Gril Aas disappeared, more ’steri- ously then er hobgobblin ina fairy play, leavin’ no Choctaw trail behind him. Thet ain't sayin’ he won't he found, tho’. An’ ef he ain’t, d’ye know what I'll do?” ‘No, What?” Gh ‘ Why, I'll jest step inter Gril’s cast-off pants, an’ espouse yer mother’s cause, by bein’ boss of the camp, myself, Mebbe Gril’s pantaloons might be a mite too plethoric fer my Corporosity, but, when et comes ter fightin’, an’ runnin’ er town, Slammy Slabsides is the werry chap fer bizness, But—hillo! D’ye see thar? Gril’s boots have also eloped!” n entering the house, the Gypsy had left his boots upon the veranda, as we have stated. They bad now as mysteriously disappeared as had the bandit himself! —_—_——_——— CHAPTER XIII, THE GYPSY QUEEN, THE astonishment of Sam and Floss, as they made the last discovery, was unbounded, and they stood for several minutes staring at each other, in silence. The boots were certainly gone from where Guyan- dotte had left them, and as Gril had disappeared, it was but natural to suppose that, whoever had cap- tured him, had also captured his boots, ‘Oh! this is terrible. What is to be done, Sam?” Floss asked, now the pine of despair, “I'll be blamed ef I hardly know,” Sam replied, rather dubiously, “I'm a slabsided senator from Slnumgullion. ef this ain’t ther mpest case fur pure ninety per cent cussedness thet 1 ever got hold of. tective, —~ + GO mews, .\c be hw ee Ts Teg, Co an ; ee FT pe Lf nee ee ae -- Ther ghosts weren’t satisfied wi’ gobblin’ onter Grif, but they've scooped in his boots, iu the bargain? Don't *pear to me there's any use of makin’ any fur-- der search,” ‘What! would you leave Gril, here, in the power of enemies, Sam?” ** Nix-ee!—not ef I could help myself, No more: would I leave Felix in ther same perdickyment. But, what’s a feller ter do? Hain’t we s’arched an” s’arched, and found nary a hide nor hair o’ either of ‘True; but it seems hard to leave them to an un- known fate.”’ ‘Fact, sure; but, what else kin wecdo? We might. jest as well set down an’ suck our thumbs, as ter s’arch any furder. Felix an’ Gril hev either evapor- ated, an’ gone up the spout, or else they’ve been kidnapped an’ tooken prisoners. Ef the latter's the: case, their captors will keep ’em hid so we can’t. find 'em, you can bet yer bangs.” ‘* Well, then, what shall we do?” ‘‘About the best ideais fer us to git away from here, before we get into a scrape, ourselves. I want. ye to take me to yer camp, an’ let me see yer mo- ther.”’ ** What for?”’ ‘Oh! I wantto see her, I’ve got kinder of an. idea I can help her. Yer see, old Norris, where I'm puttin’ up, might be persuaded to take you an’ her in, as housekeepers. He’s ricb, an’ what’s more,. he’s kinder s uck on me, an’ guess he would do any- thing I asked him ter.” ‘*Oh! do you really think he would take us in, so» we could leave the Gypsies?”’ ** Yes, Ido. He's a boss old chap.”’ ‘Then I will take you to see mamma,” They left the bluff, and bent their steps toward: the Gypsy camp. Little was said, on the way, for Sam’s mind was: so preoccupied that he had no time for conversa- tion. When they entered the camp in the lane, Sam's» eyes lit up with enthusiasm; camp-fires burned. brightly, reflecting a vivid glare against the sky, and on either side were the white, canvas-covered wagons. Flitting about in the firelight were num- bers of the dusky nomads; others were tucked away in their wagons, There were but three tents, the larger one of wen evidently belonged to the queen of the» tribe, The Gypsies eyed Sam curiously, as he accomps- p'ed Floss into the camp, and they were near the queen’s tent, when a man stepped forward, and laid his hand upon Floss’s shoulder. ‘*My child,”’ he said, BORROW ET ‘‘where have you been at this late hour, again?’ And there was an angry scowl upon his sun-tanned, beardless face. He was a tall, angular man, attired after the style of a clergyman of bygone days, and, at the ago of forty or thereabouts, lacked considerable of being: of pre ssessing appearance. “Let me go! Take your hand off my shoulder, Parson Jim!’’ Floss cried, with flashing eyes. ‘* Yow have no right to touch me, sir,”’ ‘Haven't I? Well, we will see about that, my ink miss. I happeu to have charge of this camp, during Gril Guyancotte’s absence and I intend to» rule as | see fit. Where have you been?” “To look for Gril, if you are so particular to know!” ae lye have, eh? Did you find him?” ‘ oO. , ‘*D’ye know where he is?” ‘“That’s my own business, sir. Come, Sam!”’ and wrenching herself from Parson Jim’s grasp, Floss: hurried toward her mother’s tent, Sam bringing up, the rear. ‘Hold up there, boy!’ Parson Jim cried, authori-. tatively. ‘‘Come here; I want you!” * Do ye?’ Sam flung back. ‘Well, you go beat your brows with a brick-bat till I come back,” and, with this he entered the tent with Floss, Peering out, he saw the cn sit down by a. camp-fire, evidently to wait for him to come out. When Sam turned around from the en:rance, he found himself in the presence of the same dark-elad woman who, in some as yet unknown manner, had wrought such violent agil ation to Dolly Denning. The fortune-teller was now unmasked, however,, and wore no bonnet. The light of a lamp upon a stand near her showed her to be a woman of some forty years, and there: were lines upon her forehead that betrayed her fa- miliarity with trouble and sorrow. Once she had been a woman of marked bheauty,, and still retained her good looks to a considerable extent, for her eyes were brilliant and her features. of pleasant expression. : aking Sam by the hand, Floss led him forward, “Mamma, this is the young gentleman I was tell- ing you about,”’ she said. Sam, this is my mother, Queen Sheba,” ; “Tam glad to see you, sir,’’ the queen gaid, put- bing forth her hand. ‘“ Floss seems to have taken a. liking to you, and her friends are my friends,” ** An’ I'm crackin’ glad to see you, ma’am, for yow. see, I an’ Floss make & hull team, 'cept she hatn’t: got as much nerve as she has good sense, ‘Spose —_ told you “bout things up at the ha’nted ouse?”’ ‘She told me about the singular disappearance: of an aged companion of yours. I don’t t ink you mentioned his name—did you, Floss?” “No, mamma, I told Gril. first, and he said I'd better not mention the name.” ‘‘Gril did? Why, that is strange. What was: your friend’s name, sir?” and the Gypsy queen look-- ed inquiringly at Sam COMIC — wt ee eS eee ee . ‘wera edo ota Fe tee he Te ok ke | | a