Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 434 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

we - iW « ~~ ‘TSt —— ~~ ~e ~ - - wr ~. ~~ Ry as a s ry * me ‘ Pi my . “ ve ' », Ply 7." « - fn , VEE am, 7. 10 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. and they were married before tlicy got back. I suppose the gentleman will be here with the money for them to-day. Isn’t it romantic, sir?” ‘‘Very,” Beak assented, a trifle grimly. ‘‘ What is this go-between’s mame?” “Mr. Gilbert, sir.” ** Ah! Mr. Gilbert,eh? Can you describe him, ma’am?” ‘*T believe I can, sir. He is quite tall, and of muscular build. He is from thirty-five to thirty- eight years old, rather pale, has jet-black hair and eyes, while his mustache is mixed with gray; and he dresses very stylishly.” ‘* Gilbert Guion again, as I live!” the detec- tive mentally commented. ‘‘Good gracious! where is a fellow ever to get at the bottom of this complicated case?” Aloud, he said: “Well, I guess I must be going. Would you mind telling me where I can find Mr. Carter? I'd just like to have a look at him to convince me that he is not Taylor.” ‘Certainly. They have rooms, he and Myra, at No. — Callowhill street. Is there anything bad about this Mr. Taylor, sir?” ‘*Oh! no, not so far asI positively know, as yet,”’ Beak replied, not wishing to needlessly alarm her, He then took his departure. By the time he reached No, — Callowhill street the noon whistles were blowing. Or. inquiring for Mr. Carter, the landlady conducted the visitor to the second story and he was ushered into the front room, There were two neatly-furnished communicat- ing rooms, with folding doors, which were now open, revealing the pretty domestic picture of yra Carter engaged in preparing the first meal in their new home. Carrol came into the front room, his face flushed and pleasant, for he had been assisting Myra to set the table. ‘Mr. Carter, I believe?’ Beak said, bowing. ‘* Yes, sir; and you?” ‘‘My name is Beak. I have called to see you, sir, on a matter of considerable importance, Can you spare mea few minutes in private? I will make known my business, as we take a turn around the block.” ‘*Certainly. But I have no secrets from my wife—why not be seated here, sir?” ‘¢The matter I have in hand is for your ears first.” ‘‘Ah! Well, then, I will go with you.” He procured his hat and they descended to the street. ‘“My friend,” said Beak, ‘‘ believe me I am most sorry to be forced to call you away from that pretty home scene up-stairs, to perhaps make you unhappy, but it is my duty. You were married last night, I believe?” hie BY Ay ‘¢ Under the name cf Carrol Carter?” “Why, certainly, sir. What other name would I have used but my own?” “That is not your own, young man—or, at any rate, you have borne another one?” “That is not true! What do you mean?— who are you, sir, and what do you mean, % say? t I am Jim Beak, the detective, and I have called upon you to make you acquainted with the unpleasant fact that you are a bigamist!” “A what ?” Carrol demanded, stopping stock- stil], and staring at Beak, in utter astonish- ment. ‘“‘A bigamist. While having one wife living, you have gone and married another, an inno- cent and trusting girl, and made yourself liable to arrest.” ‘‘Tt is false—false as false can be!” Carrol cried, his cheeks flushing with anger. ‘I never courted, much less married, any girl but Myra Morton. Detective though you may be, you are sadly off track this time.” ‘Oh! come now; that won’t work. I presume of course you realize the unenviable scrape you have gotten yourself into, but it won’t do youa bit oe good to make any denials. How long since you dropped the name of Terrol Taylor?” ‘‘T never used such a name, sir, as applying to myself—indeed, I don’t think I ever heard of the name.”’ ‘‘-You were never known as, or called, Terrol Taylor?’ ** Positively not, sir. for some other man.” ‘‘ Where have you lived lately?” ‘‘T have taken my meals at restaurants, and You have mistaken me Beak hesitated a moment, bit his lip, and sur- veyed Carter searchingly; but there wes no change in the young man’s face. If these straight denials were lies, his manner did not betray it. ‘Did you ever know a girl named Hazel Hurst?’ Beak finally went on. ‘*No, sir, I did not. are Morton was the only lady acquaintance I have made within a year. ‘* Did you never see this before now?” and the detective handed him the letter Spider had found. - Carter shook his head, after reading it. ‘*T never saw it before, sir.” ‘‘Have you been in the habit of lounging around the vicinity of Ninth and Sansom, much?” ‘‘T have been around there quite frequently, when there were horse sales at the Bazaar.” ‘*Did you ever see any other person around there who looked like you—almost your very counterpart?” ‘*T did not.” ‘Well, all that I have gotto say, Mr. Carter is that you are either a most infamous liar and villain, or else a grand mistake has been made?” ‘‘It surely is a mistake. Will you give me the particulars?—for, naturally, as I am accus- ed, I am much interested.” ‘*Well, in case you are innocent, I should presume you would be. The case is this: A girlnamed Hazel Hurst fell in love with a young man named Terrol Taylor. He was poor—she was rich; therefore he had not access to her home. They, however, met clandestinely, and one night, at a social gathering, were partici- pants in a so-called mock marriage—fools that they were.” ‘Ah! I think I see. The mock marriage turns out to have been valid.” “Yes. I believe it is generally conceded, in this State, that such a marriage holds good. Besides this, it turns out that the ceremony was performed by a regularly ordained minister, which doubly clinches the matter.” ** Well, you can bet high I’m not the man that ot caught!” Carter said, emphatically. “I on’t flatter myself that I’m any smarter than the average man, but you can bet all you are worth Id be a little too smart to put my head into a yoke like that.” **T don’t know about that. I am not so sure. You see, this Terrol Taylor has not been seen by his wife since the marriage, which occurred about three months ago. And, I’m still of the opinion that you are Taylor, and have been lying to me most ge pra ae “ i swear before God, sir, that I am not Tay- lor!” “Will you swear—can you prove—that your name is Carrol Carter?” he young man hesitated, and changed color. ‘Well, no,” he finally admitted, ‘‘for it is not. Several years ago the disgrace my father had put upon our name caused me to renounce it, and I adopted that of Carter.” ‘* What name did you formely bear?” ‘*T must decline to tell. But rest assured that it is as different from Taylor as A is from Z,” ‘Well, Iam sorry. ButI am afraid I shall have to arrest you, Mr. Carter.” ‘*Oh! for the love of God, do not, sir! Just think what a terrible blow it would be to my loving wife! I am not Taylor, sir—indeed, Iam not! I beg of you to spare me, and to look further until you do find the realman, Spare me such a disgrace as arrest!” ‘“*No doubt about the disgrace of it, and I should feel deucedly sad to inflict it upon your wife, who appeared to be a nice little woman, But, you see, if we detectives allowed ourselves to be tender-hearted in such things, we would never be able to cope with rascality. However, I have a plan I will endeavor to use as a test. Will you go with me into the presence of Miss Hurst, and allow her to pronounce whether you are her husband or not?” ‘Yes! yes! only too gladly! Leadon! Iam positive she will tell you you have made a mis- take.” ‘*t hope so, too, but be not too sure, She loves Terrol Taylor too passionately to make any mistakes, and if she says you are the man —then what?” ‘*Oh! my God, I do not know! It will be false, and I will be the victim of an awful mis- take—or else, a villainous piece of blackmail- lo And Beak led off. Giving one longing, despairing look back to- ward the house where he had left his young wife so happy, Carrol Carter followed in the detec- tive’s wake. His head was bowed, his face white, and he tai as if in great mental and bodily dis- ress, Poor Carter! He was indeed in an unenviable and trying position, CHAPTER IX. THE SPIDER RUNS HIS WEB. SPIDER had reached Beak’s office that morning about an hour earlier than the detective him- self, and had posted himself in the doorway to cogitate over the situation and to study the faces of people passing—one of his pleasantest diversions. He was thus occupied when he saw an old, slouchily-dressed man coming down the street at a shuffling gait. He was at least sixty years of age, and his features were scarred and wrinkled his beard and hair long and liberally sprinkled with gray, his form once large and muscular, and his eye yet remarkably keen and piercing in its glance, is clothes and foot and head covering were of the coarsest and cheapest description, and he looked decidedly like a man who had not recent- ly been on good terms with prosperity. ‘By gracious!” Spider exclaimed, in an un- dertone. ‘*‘ Ye may kick me fer acat ef et ain’t thet old sardine, Jake Morgan, who soaked me over the head with a billy! Oho! Jakie! [ve got et in fer you, sure’s sugar’s sweet. Wonder where ye’r’ poe an’ what ye’r’ up to? Some devilment, Vl bet. I kin tell it by ther twinklin’ o’ yer eyes, Jest guess I'll leave word fer Jamesy and take a quiet sneak after you.” And putting his thoughts into execution, the oung gamin hastily scribbled the note Beak ad found, and thrust it under the door. By this time old Jake Morgan had passed. This man was better known to the criminal courts than ’most any one following his profes- sion—that of burglar. He had begun his down- ward career when but a boy, and had never abandoned it. He had been in prison many times, under severe sentences, but it somehow happened that he never served his full time out like other prisoners. Just why, no one ap- toa able to explain, but it was nevertheless a act. His last term at Cherry Hill had been for three years, but he had got off with two, promising to lead a better life. It seemed he meant it, too, for he kept him- self so quiet that no suspicion of participation in burglaries could be laid upon him. But, as the gamin had alleged, he had seen a twinkle in the old scamp’s eyes that apprised him of mischief; so when Morgan had got half a square down the street, Spider crossed to the op- posite side and followed him. This was an easy job, | as Morgan trudged along without looking ack, “The old man ’pears kinder shaky in the knees,” the gamin solhiloquized, *‘ an’ I reckon it won’t be long before he passes in his checks. *Bout one more term at Cherie Hill would fix him. And [ll bet peanuts ag’in’ peggin’-awls thet the old sardine ain’t goin ter croak, till he makes one more big attempt to collar onter a fat boodle. He uster hev quite a gang o’ pals, but I reckon they must hev shook him and started in bizness on their own hook since ther old man’s gettin’ his gray cap on. Sich is life!” When Morg#n reached Sixth street, he turned into it and followed st until he reached South. Then he once more took an eastward course, un- til he finally reached the riv@ér front, when he went out on one of the piers in the vicinity, and became lost to view behind a number of high tiers ef Cordage, with which the wharf was nearly ed, No vessel was anchored in the immediate vi- cinity, consequently no business was going on, on that particular wharf. Spider did not venture out on that wharf, but took up a position, not far away, where he had a prime chance to see who came off, or went on. ‘‘T’d jest give a cud o’ terbaccer ter know what old Morgy is up to,” he mused. ‘‘ Them bales o’ rope aire too big fer him ter steal, an’ ther don’t ’pear to be any one else on the wharf. Wonder if he’d go an’ drown hisself¢ Nixee, ae ot + 7 - |e rrr cerita aS ed at lodging-houses.” ing.” Reuben! Too much anymile speerit ‘bout old eRver at —— Oxford street?” ‘*Pshaw! Women don’t blackmail men that | Jakie ter give up ther ghost in that fashion. ** No, sir.” haven’t got enough boodle to make it worth | Mebbe he’s gittin’ romantic in his dd age. an’ he G ‘*Or No. —— Montgomery avenue?” their while—no, indeed! Butcome, I will take | hes gone out to l’arn what ther sad sea waves 0” ee “No, sir.” you to see Mrs. Terrol Taylor.” ther Delaware aire sayin’, Thatain’t probabk, Vat : , -~ — I ger ne ~ 7 —_—- bu 6 —_o - monde ’ Cabbie . ~ » . — ee te err — ; m = . ba > é a = ~ Sale a? ae ; “ “ , oe :