Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 428 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

) | | ae Ge- Oe ti ’ - - —- ee —— ee —_-_ ——_ — _ eee — until the fugitive wife had passed. The effort was successtul. The lady had tripped nimbly past during the controversy, and was now some distance in advance. The mother’s anxiety forced her to look back, however, to where Fred was still hectoring the officer. She was not quite satisfied to trust her pet in such reckless hands. The officer caught a glimpse of the girl- ish back-turned face just as red pushed on, A look of question came upon the sharp features of the detective. The ferry-boat was well filled. Fred got a ‘seat with his charge in the ladies’ cabin. Mrs. Brierly sat opposite him, her eyes fixed greedily upon the motionless bundle in hisarms. The {child seemed asleep. Out into the stream pushed the boat, follow- ing the narrow water channel cut through the frozen ice-plain. Fred slyly lifted a corner of the shawl that covered the child’s face, and gazed down into the pretty, sleeping counte- nance, ‘* Poor Vittle thing,” he murmured, soothing- ly. ‘* Won’t never frow it into deriber, Guess he won't.” He stroked the velvety feet with soft fin- gers, At that instant there came a shock that brouglit the boat up all standing, while a quiver ran through her every timber. The passengers were jerked sharply in their seats, and cries of fear were heard. ‘What is it? What has happened? boat going to sink?’ came the cries, ‘*Don’t get frightened, ladies,” remarked a brisk young gentleman. ‘‘ We are among the floating ice, that’s all. Struck a cake. Never fear but we'll come safely through.” ‘Yow! yow! yow!” came from Fred’s bun- dle. The child had been effectually wakened by the shock and after gazing up in frightened bewilderment, it gave vent to a series of yells that showed there was no trouble with its lungs at least. ** Keep quiet now, will you, little slip and go- down?” cried the boy, nursing the baby on his knee. ‘Just drop them bagpipes of yourn. Why, you’re worse than a pig caught in a ate.” . - Somehow this gentle admonition did not have the desired effect. The baby looked up into the strange face above her, and howled more vigér- ously than ever. Fred got up and carried her, tossed her in his arms, natied her, but all without effect. The boat was still among thé floating ice, and stag- ered onward, grinding its way, while it trem- led like a wind blown leaf. ** 'W on’t somebody choke that squalling brat?” exclaimed a testy old gentleman in the corner of the cabin. ‘‘ There ought to be a law to keep babies off of steamboats.” ‘*Maybe you’d like to come and choke it?” cried Fred, indignantly. ‘-T don’t think the world would have been any worse off if he, had been choked himself when he was a baby, angrily exclaimed a matronly oldlady, ‘I never could endure brutes.” ‘¢‘ And I never could bear brats,” rejoined the old bachelor, with a snarl. ‘*Suppose you nurse it yourself then, if you don’t like my style,” exclaimed Fred, laying the crying child deftly in the old man’s lap. mething like an\ oath came from the surly old fellow’s lips. His face looked as if he had swallowed red pepper by mistake. He sprung hastily up, dropped his burden with a surge into his seat, and ran from the cabin, followed by a chorus of laughter, hisses, and indignant re- marks from the ladies present. ‘Old wretch!” was one of the mildest of the epithets that was applied to him. *< Guess I countermarched on him,” exclaimed Fred, with a gay laugh. ‘It was worse than a dose of opodeldoc. Come to its brudder ag’in, you pretty, tootsy thing—and stop your squall- ing, or I'll pound your head for you.” fle caught up the child, that was screaming now as lustily as a locomotive engine. Fred danced along the deck, tossing, petting, sooth- ing and shaking it in turns; but all in vain, Young Miss Brierly was on the war-path, and was not to be toned down so easily. ‘It is a shame to give a child to the care of such a boy as that!” cried one lady, indignantly. ‘* Fle knows nothing about babies,” answered a second. ‘Give me the little thing. I will quiet it down.” “Can't do it,” exclaimed Fred. ‘I'll catch everlasting rats if I don’t fetch it home safe. Some of you ladies might fallin love with the sweet little dear and vamose with it. And then wouldn’t I bein for snacks! Jerusalem, but I would!” | Is the Mrs. Brierly had sat flushed and fidgeting during this scene. A dozen times she had halt- risen, and then seated herself again. Now she could stand it no longer. She sprung hastily up, and snatched the child from Fred’s grasp. ‘‘Let me have it! You'll be the death of the child!” she cried, sharply. ‘‘ You are sticking a pin in it, I know you are.” She hastily resumed her seat with her prize, and began a hasty search for the unknown cause of the yells which still came lustily from its lung's. A dozen looks of disdain were cast at this youthful figure who thus dared to take the care of the crying child out of the hands of the more experienced matrons present, Sneering utter- ances expressed their opinion of her presump- tion. ‘‘A mere chit of a girl like that!” exclaimed one, ‘What does she know about nursing babies?’ ‘ All the young folks know more than their mothers nowadays,” answered asecond, ‘* That’s young America for you.” ‘“ She ought to be playing with a doll, instead of undertaking to nurse children,” said a third, ‘‘Give me the poor dear,” cried a fourth, ‘“‘Give it to a person of experience, who has nursed more children than you could count on your fingers.” ov | bunt ‘‘ Excuse me, madam,” answered Mrs, Brier'y, with a soft smile. ‘' Perhaps I was hasty. But you see the little dear is quieting already, She was only frightened.” In fact, the child, on getting a glimpse of the face above her, had suddenly brought her screams to an end, and was now merely sobbing, while a baby smile wastrying to break through the tears upon her face, as the sunshine makes its way through the falling drops of an April shower. ‘She may be only a girl, but ihe knows how to handle children,” remarked a gentleman present. ‘*Maybe you want to hint that 1 don’t,” an- swered Fred. ‘*T give in I don’t know—how to handle little wildcats. But if you’d only let me alone I’d fotched her to after whtle. I just hate to be beat by a baby.” In one corner of the cabin sat a person with his face shaded by his hat, and a lurking smile on his face. It was the detective whom Fred fancied he had so shrewdly humbugged. When the boat stopped this person put him- self on the track of the boy, who had again taken the baby. CHAPTER IX. FRED INTERVIEWS THE HONORABLE, ‘‘ Brine report of how the wounded are get- ting on, Fred. They are all in the Pennsylvania Hospital, I believe, You might interview them too. Find out all about them, what they think about the collision, and what they are going to do about it, You might work up a column of spicy matter.” * Ay, ay,” answered Fred, cheerily. ‘Pll bring out the points. Trust me for that. Get up something to make the railroad mad, if I can. It’s fun to stir up the railroads.” ‘* See here, boy, I don’t want any of your fancy sketches, on’t bring anything but facts, mind you. It won’t hurt, though, if they are a bit spicy. The good public likes plenty of mus- tard in its news,” “Pll give it all salt and bet!” cried Fred, as he set off on his errand. Several days had passed since the date of Fred’s adventure with the baby. Mrs. Brierly was safely domesticated with Kitty Maloney, and happy in her temporary shelter from her brutal hashiend, Of course, however, this state of affairs could not continue long. If he should discover her place of retreat her position would be worse than before. She must do something without loss of time to place her 1troperty beyond his reach. But the poor thing knew no more about business than a robin, and remained helplessly trying to devise some project. Meanwhile Fred made the best of his way to the hospital, in obedience to the orders received. He found the victims of the disaster in various stages of recovery—except two, who were al- ready beyond recovery, as they were dead and buried. The young reporter interviewed the others, hastily jotting down in his note-book their stato- ments. Finally he came to the bed on which was stretched the Honorable Robert Brierly, with a face as sour as a crab-apple. ‘¢ Vamose, now!” cried the latter grumly, on hearing Fred’s errand, ‘* Maybe you think it !” yepper enough, you isn’t enough to lie here with a broken leg, with- | hind him as if his oaths had been only the wing “ ee ee ee ee | Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. vs ed out having a swarm of newspaper bees buzzing around, Slide now, while your skin’s whole, blast you!” ‘‘ Just spose you save your temper to butter your fokig kisi with,” answered fred, coolly. “A chap would think I was going to bite you. [ never bite anything quite so sour, thank you You might be proud to have a lively young fel- low like me to help you kill time, instead of get ting on your ear about it.” ‘* Hang it, booby! do you think I want to gc’ 4 myself in the newspapers?” ‘* Td like to know where you'd be if it wasn’t for the newspapers?” replied Fred, smartly. ‘It’s them that makes half you honorables. Don’t tell me! I know the ropes. Come now, I want to give you a splurge, and a chance for @ dig into the railroad.” ‘* Deuce take the railroad! DT’m going foritas soon as I get on my pins,” exclaimed the invalid with an oath. ‘‘If I don’t sweat it, shoot me! I'll tet them see they can’t toss M. C.’s about like potato-sacks. blast and consarn itall! To be stretched here with a game leg just when I’ve got a lively job on hand. It’s enough to make a. Gospel sharp swear. Hillo, boy! I’ve seen you before, I take it.” ‘* Shouldn’t wonder,” answered Fred, indiffer- ently. ‘‘?m always drifting around, more or less,” You are the little jack-rabbit that was buz- zing around the train after that confounded smash-up. I sent you out to look after m wife, smother her ugly picture! Where is she?” ‘* That’s what I'd like you to tell me,” an- swered Fred. ‘‘I want to interview her after Dm done with you.” ‘You do, eh? What for?’ asked the hus- band, fixing his eyes with a suspicious look om Tred. ‘To find cut what made her fool enough to tie herself fast to a chestnut-burr,” rejoined the boy. ‘*I saw her, if you want.to know, and L think it’s a confounded shame for such a pretty, sweet-faced, soft-hearted little creature to he married to a horse-radish grater. Now go ahead. Let's have the balance of thatitem. | want to give you a spread in the Star.” Mr. Brierly gave a grim laugh. being angry at Fred’s em speech, it was just to his fancy. He had come from a countr where people never minced their words. With a growl like a tickled bear he let out to the hoy so much of his history as be cared to have pub- lished, ‘And just say that [m going to salt thet railroad, as soon as I get on my pins,” he ecr- cluded. ‘‘I won’t take a rascally cen less thar five thousand, and I call that dirt cheap, I’m going to speculate on that dashed company, now you bet.” Fred laughed, as he concluded jotting down his notes. ‘*See here, boy,” cried Mr. Brierly, with & louder oath than ever. ‘' You've seen that cream-faced runaway of a jade. My wife, E mean, blast her. Now I want that, woman, and I’m bound to have her. I’ve got all the lice of the city on the lookout now, but it’s like geese looking after sheep. You're a sharp little rat, and you've seen the hussy. Yowre nosing around everywhere after news, too. Just pick her up and post me where she is, and it will be a good hundred in your pocket.” ‘Couldn't you make it a thousand?’ asked Fred. ‘‘ Boys of my sort don’t take on detec, tive work cheap,” , ‘Yes; shoot it all! Put herinmy hands, and Vl make it a thousand.” ‘* And what will you do with her when you get a hold of her?” ‘Hang on like grim death to a sick monkey, I'll stick to Ler tighter than tar to a niggcr’s wool. Bet I cure her of promenading. That's enough, It’s none of your concern what I want her for.” ‘All right,” answered Fred, as he pocketcd his note-book, ‘‘1’ve only got one thing to say:—lf I had that lady in my vest-pocket nowy I wouldn’t hand her over to you fora gold mine. You haven't got money enough to buy Fred Flyer. She’d never run away from you it you hadn’t been a hog. She can stay awey from me till the sky turns green, I ain’t gcire to play second fiddle for no wife-bruiser. { hat’s my signature, right out.” Fred turned on his heeh and walked loftily away, followed bya volley of oaths from the invalid that would have annihilated bim, if he had not been made of very solid flesh and blood. As heedless of the raging fury of the man be- Instead of A ! on