Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 434 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

SS ‘* Christopher Guion.” ** Where does he live?” ** Number on C street, West Phil- adelphia. Oh! it’s a nice place, Mr. Gilbert says, and [ll like ié6 ever so much. Just think of it! we will be rich in a short time!” ** Y-a-s,” drawled Spider—* that is, if the old man don’t shuffle off within a couple of hundred years, I wish his nibs, Gilbert Guion, had left you alone and got some other girl, dash him!” **Oh! why, Spider?” ‘Cause lll have to go hunt up some other mash.” Botts laughed merrily. * Oh! no you won’t, Spider. You must come out to where I live to see me—why, of course rou must. And I'll receive you in the best par- or, and—oh! it will be so nice! I¢ will seem just like I was some grand lady, don’t you see?” “And Tll bea grand gentleman, I suppose?” looking down scornfully at his ragged trow- sers. ‘Why, of course!” ‘Then, one thing’s settled—I’ve got to tackle some misfit store, and git togged up better’n I am now. Me an’ Beals is onter another case, an’ mebbe we'll make a boodle out o’ that. But, lookee here! you won’t git stuck up an’ go ter mashin’ onter other fellers, will ye?’ ‘* Not a bit of it! You and I are steady com- any, ain’t we, an’ what do I want of another eller?” ‘‘That’s so, Well, take care o’ yerself, an’ don't fall in love with the old man. Soonas I kin rake up some better togs Vil come out an’ see you.” And giving the willing girl a parting kiss, Spider took his departure. The hour was not yet very late, and some- thing impelled him to walk down to Jim Beak’s office and see if the detective was not about, for he was not in the habit of leaving his office usu- ally until near midnight. So he jogged along, whistling as he went, and little expecting what sort of a scene he was des- tined soon to run upon, That portion of Spruce street where Beak’s office was located was built up of imposing rows of dwellings, and after nine o’clock at night the staid Quaker residents were for the most part in bed and asleep, and the street deserted, except for an occasional car or some straggling pedes- trian. Beak’s office was near the corner of a trans- verse street, and was the only ‘‘ one-horse” edi- fice in the neighborhood. As, on a proaching the office, Spider rounded the corner, his gaze beheld a scene that caysed him to utter an exclamation of surprise, Two men had clinched in a struggle, and were waltzing about the sidewalk at a lively rate. Near at hand stood a woman dressed in black, whose hands were clasped, and who was evident- ly greatly distressed. te did not take Spider more than a minute to learn that one of the men was his pard, Jim Beak; he also recognized the woman as the one who had accosted him earlier in the day. ‘‘Hillo! here’s a go!” he_ soliloquized. ‘“‘ Wonder who thie chap is what Beak is wres- tling with? They’re purty near mated, but I guess I had better part’em afore a cop comes along and waltzes ’em off to the station-house,” and darting forward, and ducking his head, the gamin managed to work himself between the contestants’ legs. The result was that they tripped, and all went tumbling to the pavement in a heap, the clinch being broken. Gilbert Guion was the first to regain his feet, and without uttering a word, he took to his heels and disappeared from view around the corner. When Beak and Spider more deliberately arose, Guion had made good his exit. ‘* Well, Pll be kicked fer a cat ef the feller ain’t slid!” Spider ejaculated. ‘Golly, what.a coward! He ain’t got no more sand nor a pink- eyed pertater. Who is he, J ener F ‘Tt don’t matter just now,” k replied, grimly. ‘Ill fix him one of these days. Have you got any news of importance, boy?” ‘* Bet I have—dead loads of it!” ‘*Then wait here until I conduct this young lady to a place of safety. I won’t be long.” And Beak and Hazel Hurst walked rapidly away. e i! my heyes!” mused Spider. ‘* Beaky must o’ saved the gal from committin’ suicide. An’ [ll bet he gits stuck on her, fer all he don’t es f Wonder who she is, any- Ww But he was destined to be left to wonder until the detective’s return. Let us follow the latter and his fair charge. ‘*Oh! sir, this is most unfortunate that Gil- bert Guion should find me with you!” Hazel said, as they hurried along. ‘‘ He will tell my father, and then—oh! dear, there’s no knowing what will happen!” ‘It is rather unfortunate, as you say, Miss Hurst, but the rascal found he could not take you away from me, and I fancy he will fight shy of me in the future, as he is evidently an arrant coward.” ) ‘* But will he not find me?’ ‘*T think not. At the hotel where we are go- ing you will be safe under an assumed name unless you expose your face upon the street. I will watch well to-your interests, and warn you in case of danger.” ‘You are very kind, sir. hope to repay you?” ** You can repay me by letting me manage this unfortunate affair until I can bring about some good result, which I think I can,” They reached the quiet boarding hotel in good time and accommodations were secured for ro she registering under the name of Amy Aiaen, Beak then bade her good-by, and hurried back to his office, where he found Spider waiting for him on the doorstep. They entered the room, locked the door after them, lit the gas and then became seated, with the table between them. ‘* Now, boy,” Beak said, lighting a cigar, ‘‘ I find that I shall want to use you, and I suppose I can put the same dependence in you that I have been able to do several times in the past.” ‘*Reckon ye kin tie to me like a hoss to a fire- engine! Yer orter know what sort o’ a chap I am by now,” ‘You have always panned out well, and I hope you always will. Now, listen, and I will rive you a distinct outline of the case I have in 1and, Pay strict attention, and commit to memory what I tell you, for you may need to remember it as our case progresses,” Beak then related all about Harrington Hurst’s business with him; also what he had learned from Hazel Hurst, and all else thus far that he knew himself. Spider listened attentively, his dirty face at times manifesting no little surprise, and he was evidently eager to have his partner finish. ** And, now, you see,” Beak said, in conclu- sion, ‘‘ it appears that Terrol Taylor is really the husband o Hace Hurst, and yet, according to his own letter, he does not love her, but pro- poses to marry another girl. This must be topped ** It is too late, boss!” ** What?” “Too late, jest as I tell you. The fellar’s gone and did it, and did et up brown, too. J see’d et done!” ‘‘Good Heaven! Go on and explain!” Beak ordered, excitedly. ‘If this be true, things are indeed in a pretty mess!” ‘‘ Well, you see,” Spider proceeded, “ after you went off on a chase after the woman, Tay- lor, he come along, picked his teeth a while at ther Continental door, an’ then took a walk ’'way up-town. I managed to foller him, tho’, an’ atlast he squatted down on a doorstep, in a narrow street, alongside a pretty gal.” ae Ah!” ‘Yas. They "peared like they were pritty fond of each other, an’ finally the gal put on her hat, an’ they come out o’ the street, an’ I heerd ’em mention "bout goin’ to Lemon Hill. So you bet I slid out lively, and got thar ahead of ’em, an’ got right under ther very seat they sot down on. ‘“Go on!” excitedly. ‘* Well, they hadn’t sot there long before they began makin’ love, an’ thar I lay, takin’ et all in. Oh! I tell you, it was sweet—reg’lar old ei gs candy sweet, an’ don’t yer fergit et. f you’d just ’a’ been there, you’d not live old bachelor life another week. Hinally, Taylor he axed her ef she would have him, an’ they struck up a bargain, the conditions bein’ that he should marry her to-night, while there was a f’ust-class moon,” ‘‘Indeed! Did the young woman maket his proposition?” ‘*'Yes. She made ther prop, an’ he tuck et up, and they started at once for the magistrate’s office, I follered ’em, and ked thru the win- dy, an’ see’d the knot tied; then I let ’em go, while I slid down inter Middle Alley to see my gal, Botts, How can I ever By ther way, Botts has struck et rich—awful 1? ‘6 She has?” Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. Se “Yes. She’s got a job o’ nussin’ an old cove, for fifty dollars a week, up in West Phila.” ** Nonsense!” ‘‘But I say she has. She’s even got her first week’s wages in advance.” ‘*Tndeed! How did she come to strike such a position as that? Why, professional and expe- rienced nurses don’t often get that much!” ‘‘Cjan’t help that. Bottsy has got the persi- tion. Some guy as knows Mrs. Botts got it fer her. He was the old man’s grandson, | believe. Say, come ter think, his name is same as that you mentioned—Gilbert Guion.” ‘Gilbert Guion? Can it be possible?” ‘Yes; you bet that’s jest ther size of et, Jamesy. Ther chap. you was wrastlin’ with is ther very emp wot’s ter give Bottsy fifty a week fer nussin’ bis granddaddy.” ‘‘There is something queer about this—quite a coincidence that his name should come to me so suddenly, twice in twenty-four hours,” Beak said, thoughtfully. ‘‘Miss Hurst pronounces him a villain, oat Bike no doubt but what he is, since he tried to get her away from me by at- tempting to knock me down. I shall have toin- vestigate his case, for it occurs to me that he is about the only person who may have the stolen certificate,” ‘* Like enough. I shall tell my gal Botts about him,” ‘‘ Tell her nothing, except that I said for her to make it her business to overhear all she possibly can of what passes between the grandfather and grandson.” ‘‘T see! make her a kind of a detective, too?” ‘* Exactly.” ‘*T}]1 do et, an’ you bet Bottsy will do almost anything for me. But, how about this feller, Taylor?” eak’s brows became knitted in a look of perplexity. ‘*T hardly know what to do, or what to think about the matter,” he said. ‘In marrying this second girl, Taylor has certainly committed bigamy. Perhaps he has done so, in ignorance that his other marriage was valid, and it would seem a shame to make him and his new bride unhappy, by breaking the bad news to them, Yet, something must be done, and I shall try to see him, to-morrow.” 5 And, what shall I do?’ ‘‘ Why, you will hold yourself in readiness at a moment’s notice. Be here, early, to-morrow, and I may have other orders to give you.” And Jim Beak and his little pal parted for the night. CHAPTER VII. GUION SHOWS HIS TEETH. As the reader has no doubt inferred, the Mr. Gilbert who made the remarkable offer, to Myra Morton, as narrated in a previous chap- » ter, and the Gilbert Guion whom we have since alluded to, were one and the same person. When he left the vicinity of his struggle with Detective Jim Beak, he lost no time in making his way to the Bread street railway station. There he took a coupé, and after giving a few directions, was driven rapidly to the residence of Harrington Hurst, on Germantown avenue. It was a handsome brick house, with marble trimmed front, and steps, and inside blinds; but no lights were visible from the front part of the residence, when Guion got out of the coupe. Paying the driver, he entered the house, by the aid of a aap org Once within the hall, he found it lighted, as was the elegantly furnished parlor, in which | Mr. Hurst was seated at his secretary, engaged | in iy rao | ‘‘May I come in?’ Guion asked, pausing at the threshold, hat in hand.” ‘‘- Yes, come in, and have a chair,” the ex-~- speculator replied, rather gruffly. ‘‘I am not ‘‘None in particular,” Guion replied, as he helped himself to an easy-chair, ‘‘except I hear a rumor that there will be a run on the ——— Bank, to-morrow.” Hurst shrugged his shoulders, and gave vent toa nt. ‘Thank goodness no bank’s failure, will af- fect me,” he said, with a glance at a large safe, near at hand. ‘‘ ve closed up all my banking business, and got my money where no one will handle it but myself.” ‘‘ And a goodly pile, Idare say, you have of it. However, what is money? It cannot always buy happiness, nor can it buy off a haunting hantom, nor return a life!” ‘‘ Bnough of that!—enough of it, Isay!” Hurst cried, stamping the floor, and growing red in as . 33 “ & y particularly occupied. Any news, down-town?” ° ' é 4 ae at * 4 ¢ v. -. (ae | ee ep a} ae 7 : r 4 — Va y i\ veal