Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 428 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

- ee _ © eae ci a2 ** Hillo!” cried Fred. ‘‘Good-morning, gen- tlemen. Just in? Where have you been all night? Why, the Star's on the street these two hours. And if you don’t believe it’s square, just buy a copy and try.” ‘**How did you get here, I say?” exclaimed the 7imes reporter, angrily. He looked as if he could hardly keep his hands off the cool boy. ‘*Come by lightning express,” answered Fred. *‘ Beats your special trains all hollow. Best try it yourself next time. Good-day. They’re wait- ang for the news at your offices,” red walked briskly on, laughing at their dis- comfiture, ‘* We'll be even with you for this, you young rooster,” yelled one of the reporters, in a rage. ‘Ta, ta!” laughed Fred. ‘‘Keep your tem- pers, gentlemen. Better luck next time.” In a half-hour afterward he was at Kitty Ma- loney’s door. That good lady opened the door at his knock, There came a strange expression on her face when she caught sight of her visitor. ‘** How’s Mrs. Brierly and the baby?” he asked. “* Dropped down to see them,” ** Faix, an’ I’m hardly able to tell—” she be- gan. ** Tell what?” “It’s gone they are, and that’s the Gospel truth.” **Gone? Gone where? Whatdo you mean?” ‘‘Clane stole away,” answered Kitty, discon- solately. ‘‘ That thafe of the world, that detec- tive, came here wid as’arch-warrant, and where they are I know no more nor the babe unborn. But, faix, it’s not here you nade be lookin’ for em. —___ -- CHAPTER XIV. FRED ON THE RAMPAGE, If there ever was a case of a young manin a stew, it was Fred Flyer on receiving this as- tounding intelligence. He stood staring stupid- ly at Mrs. Maloney, with eyes and mouth wide open, completely taken aback, ** one!” he repeated. *“CYane gone! Ain’t left the track of her purty fut an the floor. The swate crayther as she was too, wirra!” ‘Then may I be keel-hauled and top-lifted, if you ain’t the neatest specimen of an Irish booby that ever— You let them carry her off? You? With ten fingers and a tongue to fight with? And I thought it was as good as a regiment of soldiers to give her to your care! h! Kitty Maloney, and is that the kind of a woman you are?” Fred had found his tongue again in good earn- est. He was white with spleen and indignation as he thus gave the good lady a piece of his mind. ‘*Arrah now, an’ don’t be talkin’ that way,” she ejaculated, ‘‘ Faix, an’ didn’t I go at’em, teeth an’ nail? But what was a poor lone wo- man to do ag’in’a couple o’ stout rapscallions that cared no more for my blather nor they’d minded the hum of a honey-bee? An’ the poor crayther got skeert, or she needn’t ha’ gone a step wid them, as I told her. She was as white asa pan o’ buttermilk, the swate soul!” ‘** Did you follow them? Where did they take her to?” ‘‘\is it me folly them? And me wid my hands in the suds? And a big washin’forninst, as had to be done afore dark that blessed night? Faix, an’ it’s the quare ideas boys do be gettin’ intil their heads.” ‘**That’s enough, Mrs, Maloney,” cried Fred, angrily. ‘‘ We both might as well save our breath. But the next time I have a mouse to hide it won’t go in your cage, that’s all.” He walked away, fuming with anger. But Mrs. Maloney was not to be cheated out of the Jast word in an argument, ‘*TIndade, an’ it’s little thanks I’m gettin’ for me throuble,” she called after him. ‘‘ Aw TI might ha’ known it, too, for it’s his mother’s blood over and over again. Haven’t I slaved and slaved for that woman, and what did I iver et for it all, cept the thrifle of dirty cash? Who'd ha’ thought I'd iver have to take imper- dence from her boy, as I’ve had on my knee ‘when he was a chit no bigger nor a rabbit?” Fred walked on while the sound of Mrs, Ma- loney’s voice followed him till he was quite be- yond hearing. He was thoroughly nonplused. ‘What to do he knew not. Many persons might have settled it by giving up the case. and letting Mrs. Brierly get herself out of the difficulty into which she had fallen. But Fred was not that sort of a boy. He had taken a strong fancy for the poor lady, whom he deeply pitied. As for Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. SSS AT SL SS LIPASE: PUL (EY ce | ST emma her brutal husband, he hated him like poison. He was thoroughly determined not to give up while the ghost of a chance remained, Yet, where was she, and what was he to do? These were questions not easy to answer. As for searching the city at random for a hidden woman, he might as well search a _ bee-hive for a lost bee. Some other measures must be taken. Swallowing his anger, he returned to Mrs. Maloney, and got from her a description of the parties who had carried off her boarder. It was as he expected. One of them answered to the ferry-boat detective. Fred put himself on the lookout for this individual. A week or two passed away. Fred’s news- paper items referred to matters and things about the wharves, for he was continually lurking there, on the watch for the suspected of- ficer, This vigilance was not entirely without ef- fect. He succeededed in tracing him to the hospital, of which Mr. Brierly was still an in- mate. ‘** After his blood-money,” said Fred to him- self. ‘* A dirty dog heis anyhow. He knows he is throwing a blue-bird into the claws of a vulture, but itis little to him so he gets his ugly dollars. I hope the bread he buys with them will choke him.” An officer of the institution passed by, whom Fred buttonholed. ‘* Excuse me,” he said, ‘‘but I’m after an item for the Morning Star. How about the wounded in the Camden railway accident? I should like to know how they are coming on.” ‘* Mostly cured and discharged,” answered the officer. ‘*‘ Some of them taken away by their friends. Two of them dead and discharged. Benton and Price. Poor devils, Benton had no friends. He went to the dissecting-room. Got his skeleton now in the museum, Ought to send it as a present to the railroad company, to set up in their office.” ‘** How about the others?’ ‘** Dorsey has a strained back. Will never be worth a fig again. A poor creature of a wo- man, Mrs. Lamson, has lost her arm to the BOY. The company will have to pension er, ‘* And the Western politician! The Honora- ble Bob Brierly, with a broken leg?” ‘* Doing prime, The bones have knit nicely. Will be on his pegs in a couple of weeks more, Will be glad to get rid of that customer,” Why?” ‘You never heard anybody that can match him in swearing. He keeps everything blue around him. Anything more?” ‘*' That will do. Much obliged,” **Good-day.” The official hurried cff, bus- tling with business. ‘* Two weeks, en?” soliloquized Fred. ‘‘ Then Mrs. Brierly is safe for that time. She’ll only be kept in quod till he’s able to get at her. The Hon- orable Bob is my game. That detective is too sharp to be trapped. But I calculate an Eastern reporter ought to be able to run down a West- ern politician. Hs might fling me; but he’s got to be up early in the morning.” He was not the boy, however, to leave a stone unturned. He kept an eye on the detect- ive during the two weeks while waiting for Mr. Brierly’s convalescence. But that gentleman seemed to be done with the job. He kept steadily at his post on the ferry-slip. The two weeks of probation quickly passed. Fred presented himself again at the hospital. ‘*How goes Bob Brierly? Ready to stump abroad yet?” ‘*He might go, but the leg isn’t safe yet. He will have to stay another week in the ward.” Fred walked away a little out’ of temper. Brierly’s leg in fact had healed with great rapidity, but the impatient boy was half in- clined to think that he was holding back the cure just to spite him. He was not used to the discipline of waiting. Y Faithfully, that day week, he presented him- self again. ‘*Bob Brierly?’ answered the gate-keeper, in response to his question. ‘‘ You seem to be in- terested in that gentleman?” ‘*T am, considerably.” ** He’s gone.” ‘* Gone?” “Yes. We couldn’t hold him. Got lively enough to stump about, and sent for a carriage and drove off two days ago. A mighty good riddance, He was trouble enough for six of his size. ** Rode off? The deuce! Where to?” “To Jericho, for aught I know.” Here was a pretty pickle of fish. After al " ‘ Se iS ST é his vigilance Fred was checkmated, He was not used to swearing; but he would have given a week’s salary, just then, for somebody to swear for him. It was a confoundedly awk- ward predicament to be in. What was to be done? Mr. Brierly must be found by hook or crook. Fred searched the record-book of every hotel, from the largest to the smallest, but in vain. The Honorable Bob had not registered himself at any of them. It was possible that he might have taken an assumed name, but that was not likely. West- ern Honorables want it known when they are on their travels. Fred investigated the guests of the hotels, however, but the face of his game did not appear. He next sought the carriage that had taken him off. It was not to be found. It was sim- ply a passing cab that had been hailed. here was but one plan left. He made him- self familiar at the political clubs and head- quarters, with the hope of nailing his prey among the politicians. This, too, proved use- less, Bob Brierly had utterly disappeared. It was a decidedly disagreeable situaticn. Fred was not used to being distanced, and it did not improve his impatient temper. He growled and grumbled, and made things disa- greeable for the young folks at home, until his father took up the battle in their defense, ‘*Look here, you grumbling young bear!” roared Mr. Flyer. ‘I'd like to know who’s boss of this shanty, you or me? You've been raising Cain now among the young ones fora week, and I'll be fiddled if I stand any more of it. You can go down and whistle blue light- ning among the types till youre tired, but you can’t turn this house into a bear-pit while I’m about. Do you hear that?” Fred subsided. When his father got on his mettle he meant business, He took the wise advice given him, and made for the printing- office. Here he seated himself on a crippled hand-press, and gloomily watched the type- setters, as they nimbly flung the news into their composing-sticks. Fred sat dismally cogitating. He hated to be beaten. Yet a week had passed since Brier- ly left the hospital, and not the slightest trace of him could be found. Where was the poor wife, and what desperate strait might she not be in? Suddenly Fred straightened himself up. An idea had shot into his mind. There might be a way of stirring up the lost runaway. Bob Brierly was a politician. He would want to see the papers, and particularly the Mornin Star, which was the organ of his party. e might be reached through the paper. “Just the thing!” cried Fred, slapping his knee. ‘‘If Mr. Brace will let me put it in I bet I sting the Honorable Bob. It’s the only way to fetch him out of his nest. And Mr. Brace will do it if I tell him the whole story.” Fred sought the chief editor, and explained to him his wishes, Mr. Brace shook his head. ‘Tt won't do, my boy. What do you want to pitch into him for? ‘You had one squib in the paper about that gentleman, and he sent us a furious letter from the hospital. If you putin what you want now he will be here with club or revolver, to cudgel or shoot the editor,” ‘'™hink he will?” asked Fred, delightedly. “4, am sure of it.” ‘* But that’s just what I want. He is in hid. ing now, and caa’t be found. I want to fetch him out of his hole. Smoke him out like they smoke out rats.” ‘*That’s very nice for you, but how will it be for the editor? Do you fancy I want a visit from a Western rough?” ‘* Best Luild a Lattery of ten-pounders at the head of the stairs,” laughed Fred. ‘Or toss him out of the editorial window. It’s a : cod twenty-feet tumble. That will take the fight out of Mr. Brierly.” ‘See bere, boy,” cried Mr. Brace, “there's something behind all this. What’s in the wind? What scheme are you up to?” Fred seated himself, and told the editor the whole story, of the flight and rescue of Mrs. Brierly, her recapture, and the disappearance of her husband. Mr. Brace listened with a countenance full of sympathy. He could see in is even more than Fred, for he well knew the power which a brutal husband has over a weak and vielding wife. ‘Tf you only saw her once,” said the anxious lad. ‘*So pretty, and sweet, and innocent. And the baby a lump of niceness. I tell you what, that rat’s got to be smoked out of his hole.” ‘Prepare your item,” rejoined Mr. Brace, ‘‘ Bring it tome. I will see that it goes in.” In the next editiou of the Morning Star ape F eg le - ; ————__-—__ —_— -- mae.