Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 428 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

= -_ no pite 3S Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. of butterflies’ wings, Fred walked on toward the entrance of the hospital building. He had reached the outer hall, when he met @ man in close conversation with one of the managers, whose face attracted his attention. It was the ferry-boat detective! Tie had passed the boy without noticing him. I’ved turned and looked after him suspiciously. ‘*“Something in the wind,” he muttered, shaking his head. ‘* That fellow isn’t here for nothing. There’s the old Samuel to pay, and hot. Bet a coon’s tail he’s here for an interview with Bob Brierly; and ’'m going to find out.” Turning, he followed the two men into the hospital wards, and traced them until they entered the private room occupied by the hon- rable invalid. ** Knowed it,” growled Fred, discontentedly. “*Thought I had him flung, but he didn’t fling worth shucks. Wonder if he didn’t see right through my little ferry-boat game? Mrs, Brierly had to look back and I saw his eyes on ther. Tll go a cow that my cake’s all dough, This sharp’s tracked the woman, and he’s here pow to see what price he can sell her for to her husband. Lucky he didn’t twig me. I’ve got to make a new deal.” : In a minute Fred was in the street and on his brisk way to the office. A busy train of thought ran through his active brain as he proceeded. ‘There was no use tracking the detective. He ‘was as well satisfied that the latter knew the hiding-place of the fugitive as if he had fol- lowed him to Mrs. Maloney’s door. She must be got away from there, and that soon. There was no telling how quickly her enemies might settle down on her. He was soon at the office of the Star, where he lost no time in writing out his interview notes into as spicy an article as he could make of them. ‘*See here, Fred,” cried the editor, on hastily ¢lancing over the manuscript. ‘* This Bob Bri- «>ly business won’t do. Well only get into trouble if we putitin. Can’t publish such dy- ni‘nite cartridges as that.” It’s solid truth, though,” protested Fred. “What? That his wife ran away from him through bad treatment?” ‘* Yes, and is hiding away now. I[ain’t bring- ing you any Tom Fiddler’s news. Why, he’s rot all the police of the city quietly on the \vatch for her. Tries to make it out insanity. at that dodge won’t work. Dve seen him, and { lmnow what sort of a potato-masher he is.” * All right, Fred. If you vouch for it, in it goes. It’s spicy, anyhow, and we want spice, even if there’s 2 trifle of risk. In it goes, and the Honorable Bob can kick with his lame leg, if he feels like it.” “It’s solid logic, you bet!” laughed Fred, as he seized his hat and made for the door. ‘* Vil swear to every word of it, and bring the wom- an up for proof, if she’s wanting. I ain’t done yet with the Honorable Bob.” He plunged out and down the stairs, eager to put some plan for the safe-keeping of Mrs, Bri- erly into effect. He was stopped, however, ere he had gained # square’s distance, by a loud call from behind. An office boy had plunged down the stairs and through the street after him, and was loudly calling him, ‘‘Here, Fred! Fred! ‘You're wanted!” ‘What's in the wind now?” asked Fred, re- Auctantly turning. ** Mr. Brace sent me after you with this, It’s a telegram just in. Important, he says. Must be put through on the jump. Some of the older reporters would get it, but there’s none of them in, and not a minute to lose,” Fred snatched the telegram with a very dis- contented look, He would have jumped at the chance a few days before, but just now he had other eggs in the pan. Mrs. Brierly might get into trouble while he was absent. He ran his eyes hastily over the scrawl. ‘* Out of the city. Why, it’s a day’s job, and no baby’s vlay, either. And here comes a snow- storm. What did you run so fast for, you younz imp? I ain’thungry after any such jobs.” ** You don’t want it?’ exclaimed the surprised boy. ‘ Why, I thoughtit would suit you better than jumbles and pound-cake. Want me to tell Tir. Brace that?” ‘If you do, Pll run a case of type crossways down your throat. Of course min forit. A «hap can’t growl, except he’s got to apologize to the printer’s devil. If you say beans to Mr. Wold your horses! Brace, [ll set you up in boot-leather, now you be-,” I’red dashed away. He was angry and out of. — sorts, and had half a mind to turn back and whale the boy for satisfaction. ‘**It'd only raise a howl in the office, though. You might think these boys were made of French china, they’re so mighty tender of them. All I can do is to skeet down-town and put Mrs. Maloney on guard, and then off for this uncomfortable job. A very short time brought him breathless to Mrs, Maloney’s door. That good lady was luckily at home, and listened with growing ex- citement to the young reporter’s hurried ex- planations. ‘Is it a rapparee of a thafe-catcher, thin?” she angrily inquired. ‘‘Faix but he’ll find Kitty Maloney at home. And wid hot water on the stove, too. And it’s afther that purty lady wid the baby they are, indade? You kin thrust me now, Misther Fred. Sure an’ I’ve dealt wid the loikes of them bog-trotters afore.” ‘*But don’t breathe a word to Mrs. Brierly. She'll be scared into a mummy if she knows they’re after her.” ‘*Divil the word’ll I breathe, at all, at all. There’s not a swater lady in the whole coun- thry nor that same, and it’s not meself that would iver lift a hand to trouble her. Yo a safely Pave it all wid Kitty Maloney, me OY. Fred departed, not quite satisfied in mind. e had every confidence in Mrs. Maloney’s good intentions, but was not so sure of her good judgment, CHAPTER X, THROUGH NIGHT AND STORM, THE snow was falling rapidly when Fred en- tered, at a quick run, the West Philadelphia de- 0t of the Pennsylvania R. R. He was out of yreath with haste, and came panting into the station. He had bought a ticket and was hur- rying to the train, when a voice accosted him. ‘* Hey, Fred! Where have you been? I have waited here this half-hour for you.” It was Mr. Brace, chief editor of the Star. ‘*Been prospecting,” cried Fred, in reply. ‘* Plenty of time. Got a good five minutes to spare. Want me, Mr. Brace?” ‘* Yes. I sent for you to come back into the office. Why didn’t you?” ‘* First I heard of it,” answered Fred. ‘ That type-monkey never said a word. Handed me the telegram and told me to slide. Best grind him up into printers’ ink. That’s all he’s good for. What’s wrong, Mr. Brace?” ‘* Come here a moment. I want a word with you,” . He led Fred out of the throng of passengers who were hurrying to the train, ‘*This is an important job,” began the editor. ‘* Too heavy for one so young as you. I would take it myself, but haven’t the time. I want you to be on your mettle, Fred.” ‘* Just post me on what’s to be done, and count on me doing it. If it’s in the wind Pll put it through.” ‘*Cameron is to speak at Lancaster to-night. A. very important speech, It’s the trump-card of the campaign. He’s to outline the party pees for the next election. It’s the eavy gun of the year, my lad. The first move in the presidential game. Every paper bas its reporter out, and every one will try his best to be first in. I want you to keep up the honor of the Star. It will be a feather in your cap if we get our extras out in advance. Do you un- derstand?” Fred looked up into his face with keen intelli- gence. His eyes sparkled with animation. Here was a prime chance for a dash, and a dash was just to his fancy. ‘*Cost don’t count, eh?” he queried. ‘‘ Sup- pose [ want to buy up a railroad train, or some little trifle of that sort? Or to charter a tele- graph company?’ ) ‘* Here’s for you,” answered Mr. Brace, with a laugh, as he gave the boy a roll of notes, ‘Don’t let the Star be discounted, Fred. Get the wires first, if it empties your pocket.” ‘* Ay, ay,” answered Fred, cheerily. ‘‘ There’s the train-bell. Ive got to streak. There are some sharp chaps on the other papers, Mr. Brace, and I’m only a green one. You won’t blame me if I get left?” ‘‘ No, no. But do your best.” ‘Bet [ wake them up, anyhow. They won't leave Fred Flyer easy. Good-by, Mr. Brace. Here goes for the sport.” Fred was off lire a shot as the last tap of the bell sounded. The train had already started when he reached the platform, but he sprung onto a car with the agility of a monkey. Ina minute more they were going too fast for evena monkey to have mounted. Night was rapidly approaching as the traim rolled out into the free air, and darted away through the outskirts of the city toward the open wi It promised to be a wild night The snow which had been f.lling all the after- noon now came down heavier than ever. The ground was covered with a thick carpet of white, over which howleda chilling breeze that lifted the fallen snow into eddying whirls. Rain and sleet began to mingle with it, freezng as it fell. All was dreary and desolate. The passengers shuddered as they looked out into the storm. ‘‘Hope we won't get stalled,” cried one. ‘* Tt’s just the night to fill up cuts. There'll be no fun if the engine rams her nose into a snow- bank, and lays us up for all night on the road.” ‘‘IT hope to Moses it won’t,” answered his companion. ‘‘I’ve got to reach Lancaster in time for the meeting.” ‘‘ Faith, ’m as anxious as yourself, But it’s one thing to make up your mind, and another thing to do your work.” Fred looked around at the speakers. It was as he suspected. He saw a pair of his rival re- pvorters, out on the same errand as himself. ‘It’s cut and go,” he muttered. “If I get left it won’t be for doing my best.” Onward rattled the train. Over broad levels, along lofty embenlments through deep ra- vines, over high Lridges, with frozen streams far beneath, now in a wild stretch of country, now thundering through a half-sleeping village, now storming into a bustling town, on and on it went, whistling defiance to the storm, and breaking with its red eye through the gather- ing gloom like some living dragon, the lord of the tempest. And everywhere spread the fleecy carpet of the snow. Each tree looked like a white ghost. The ground was deeply sheeted. Every bit of woodland was foliaged with snow wreaths. It seemed, through the growing gloom, as if a thousand specters were abroad. Still the snow came down in whirling eddies. Still the train ran madly on through the night. ‘* Somehow I’ve a noticn there’s fun ahead,” said Fred to himself. ‘‘The nimblest *possum is going to get the persimmon. It’s dash and go, sure pop.” The hours moved on. Night came down thick and heavy. The train should have reached Lancaster by seven o’clock. Yet, forced to move slowly by the storm it was still fifteen iniles out when the hour of seven passed. The obstruction to the road grew heavier. The engine vigorously forced her way onward. At half-past seven they had still five miles to 0, ‘* We’re good for the meeting anyhow,” said one of the reporters. ‘‘It calls at eight. We'll be in within fifteen minutes.” ‘*And ten minutes from the depot will take us to the hall.” ‘“There’s nothing like a locomotive for—” The sentence was never finished. For at that moment there came a heavy surge that sent the passengers plunging forward in their seats. The train came toa sudden stop, and the cars clashed together with a thundering report. ‘* W hat’s the matter?” ‘‘ Something’s bu’sted.” ‘* Look out, folks,” ‘‘ Butted into another train;” ** Mercy on us, I’ve smashed my nose!” Such were some cf the medley of exclamations that arose. The brakeman, who now opened the car door, was assailed by a torrent of ques- tions from the alarmed passengers. ‘Don’t be frightened,” he remarked, coolly. ‘‘Tt’s nothing. A mere trifle. It will be all right in a minute.” ‘*That’s nothing, eh?” exclaimed an angry passenger. ‘‘I’d like to know what you call something. There’s nothing like taking it cool, hang me if there is,” ‘*Only a snow-pile,” rejoined the brakeman. ‘*The locomotive has rammed her nose into tae snow. She'll go through it, you can bet cn her. ‘*T am not so sure of that,” exclaimed one cf the reporters, as he sprung up and rushed fer the car door, ‘‘ It isn’t the first time I’ve seen an engine stalled in a snow-heap. Don’t tell ne about her going through.” He was followed closely by his companion. Other passengers also rushed te the door, Fred one of the foremost. It was a decided change of conditions to rush out of the well-warmed and comfortable ¢ar into the raging storm. The locomotive was a picture to behold when they had made their way to her through the drifts. Covered with 7. boo : —— Or