Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 452 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

-—— ——_ ">? fic Leb, the Street Boy Detective. Lan), —— 13 ee o> “hie. _— —_ —__- “« Be silent!” said Playfair, hissingly. ‘‘ Keep a close tongue in your head, or itll be the worse ; drink my name ain’t Bob, ter wit, namely!” for you.” “Tt seems that you know the creature, Zad,” put in Bargrade, sulkily. ‘‘If so, 1 wish you'd muzzle her. We want no lunatics here.” ‘*T—I have seen her.” ‘‘ Order her out then.” Bet suddenly aroused. Her abundant nerve could not long. be dashed, and she pointed one | finger at Bob o’ the Bowery. “Give me him an’ I'll go. him hyar, an’I wants a hack at him. debbil, he 1s.” She wound up by shaking her fist at the young detective, but Playfair took her resolutely by the arm. ‘Come with me!” he said, authoritatively. ‘We want no such work here; as for the boy, he’s a friend of mine. Let me talk with you.” He pushed her toward the hall, and she went reluctantly. Playfair’s influence over her was surprising. Bargrade began picking up the yiano-stool and other scattered things, while ob got as near the hall door as he dared and listened eagerly. The bank president was speaking. “‘This is sheer madness, Will you let any such foolish quarrel as this ruin all? We shall be ready to sail in a week, and if you want to go with us, you must be mighty careful now.” ‘‘ But de young debbil abused me,” grumbled Bet. ““What if he did? Sink the small affair, and get away from here assoon as possible. There’s a inan in there whom I’m hoodwinting, and it’s poor policy for us to gabble here, Will you go?” ‘Yas, I will, but you’s must be sure an’ tek me when you sail.” 6 I will, never fear. Mrs, Playfair has prom- ‘Has you got de bank cleaned out, honey—” ‘“‘*Sh! Silence, fool, and get away from here! He pushed her toward the door, and, in a few seconds, had her outside, and the door reclosed. The down-at-the-heel servant, who had admitted her, had beat a frightened retreat, and they seemed to have the scene to themselves, When he re-entered the parlor, Bob was sit- ting on the sofa, safely whistling, and the boy seemed as innocent as Bargrade really was. Had Mr. sev tem known, however, that Bob had heard ali that was said, he might not have been so easily satisfied. He told a plausible story about Bet, saying she had once been employed by his wife, and then the subject was drop _ They tried to resume where the negress had interrupted them, and Bob was duly engaged at good salary to watch Wellburn and see what could be learned definitely against him, but — no longer showed the interest that he did ore. The young detective, however, was eager “‘ fer a chance to scoop in some bullion,” and a bar- gain was duly made, He carried on his pretense of being a hard young fellow, and neither man suspected the part he was playing. The interview lasted half an hour longer, and then Bob was dismissed with the injunction to report often to Bargrade, who confessed that his real name was Brackett. By that name we will henceforth call him. When Bob went out he fully expected to find Bebin wait for him, but she was nowhere visi- le. He sought the nearest restaurant and had dimmer, and then, finding that he had not time to see Andrew Wellburn at the bank, decided to re- turn to the house at once, He had already been gone a long time. As he went he was busy thinking over hisnew discoveries. “T opine I’ve got ther hull thing down putty fine—all but ther secret o’ Andrew’s circumnavi- Eatians. Roast me fer a hoss-chestnut ef I un- erstand his riffle. Either he’s guilty or he ain’t. Which is it? Ef he didn’t git full an’ ble, I’d bet my patent pumps on him, but m afeerd he’s a tough ole chap. They be, any- how. Playfair don’t play fair—not fer Joseph! He’s a measly ole shark, an’ he’s a stealin’ ther shekels right out o’ ther bank. Yes, sirree, an’ my deposit is in vital danger ©’ bein’ snatched hald-headed.” Bob caressed his own head, a8 though to make sure he was not undergoing the same fate. ‘‘ Zadok hez got it all cut-an’-dried, he sez; an’ a nice little scheme "tis; but I ketches on like a bulldog ter a coat-tail. He’s drawred all ther money from the bank he kin, an’ now he pro- He’s a I’s done follered | liam. ee a Se emma eeepc poses to take his family, an’ ther bullion, an’ , ship fer Europe. Jes’ 80; jes’ so! Mebbe he’il thar is that ter say which mebbe you won't want _ev’rybody ter hear. Ef I’m ter work up ther crookedness that exists among yer family hyar, *‘tain’t jest hunk ter let them onter no new pints.” Olive Pray, still listening at the door, started as much as Wellburn had done. Cautious as Bob was trying to be, he had inadvertently viven away a delicate secret; the acute mind of | the listener at once grasped an important fact of the case. ‘* So that is what he is here for! The miser- able little scoundrel! If we don’t make it hot for him, I'll sell out.” And Miss Pray certainly had the will to do all she said. The cashier took the hint and led Bob to the tives disposes. Ef Zadok gits across the big By this time the speaker bad reached Well- | burn’s house, and he entered quietly. Nobody commented on his long absence, thouzh Willis looked wondering:y at him. ** B’gosh!” thought the Bowery boy, ‘I ain’t did my duty by this little chap. Ill a’tend ter it right off. say, Will,” he added, aloud, ‘*s’pose we talk about Plato?” ‘About Plato?’ wonderingly repeated Wil- ‘* Jes’ so.” ** What about him?” ‘* W’ot’s yer opinion o’ ther feller?” ‘**T really don’t know, Robert.” ‘** Ain’t ye ever been ter his ole home in Yonk- ers?” further end of the room, and, after that, no dis- ‘‘In Yonkers? Why, Plato was an old | tinct sentence came to the eavesdropper’s hear- Greek.” ing. She was angry enough that it was so, but she had learned something of importance, and when she finally retreated to the Jower part of the house, she startled Mrs. Wellburn by ex- _ claiming: ** Jes’ so, an’ he was ther best man in ther club, He'd make more home-run licks than any other two men in ther measly nine, an’ he kiver- ed first bag like a good ’un. Gracious! how he’d pick up a daisy-cutter!” | See here, old lady, we’ve got to be up and Bob nodded and smiled with the air of one | doing, or our game islost. That vulgar Bowery who is thoroughly at home with his subject, but.| boy is a spy right in our own house.” Willis’s wonder did not abate. | a the meanwhile, Bob o’ the Bowery was tell- ‘You don’t mean the same man as I do, | ing his story to Wellburn. He was so sure that Robert. The original Plato did not play base- ; he had discovered the real state of affairs that ball. He was an old Greek philosopher, an’—” | he kept nothing back. Wellburn was plainly ‘‘ Jes’? so; same man. Yas, he was a philoso- | shown that, to casual view, he appeared to be her—considerably so. "Member seein’ his club | a drunkard and a gambler, if not a fraudulent iicked by ther Nonesech Club, 0’ Bohoken, in | bank official, and he was shown more. 1880, by a score o’ fifteen ter three. Did Plato | Bob told what he knew about Bargrade, except git down in ther chops? Not fer Joseph! He | his real name; about Zadok Playfair, Steve est took a chew o’ the weed, an’ sez he, sez | Rellix and the rest of the gang; and the cashier lato: ‘Ef we’d played eighteen innings, we'd | listened in silent dismay. When Bob saw fit to hev licked yer all ter pieces.’ Yas, he was a | stop, three words fell from the man’s lips: philosopher.” ‘*T am ruined!” ‘‘ Yes, but, Robert, the great Plato lived and ‘‘ That depends,” quickly answered the street died over two thousand years ago. My books | detective. “‘Ef you're guilty, you be sort o° say so.” | smashed ter artoms; but ef ther Vereen o' Bob looked a little puzzled, and scratched his | moral rectitude hez been yer guidin’ star, I'll head. | bring ye outer ther wilderness like Moses did ‘‘That so? Wal, mebbe ther chap I refer to | ther British.” wos his son. NowlI think on’t his name wos| ‘“ Useless, useless! Playfair holds the reins of Peter Plato, Jr. Yas, he were prob’ly your , power.” Plato’s son.” _ “Not ef you're innercent—not fer Joseph! ‘‘But I said that the great Plato died two _ Not by a darned sight.” thousand ago. He couldn’t have a son liv- ‘** Boy, you don’t know all,” hopelessly replied ing,” Willis persisted. the cashier. ‘*‘Once I was guilty of a great I dunno "bout that. Pete Plato, Jr., looks | crime—I forged a check. It was soon after my sorter old. He’s lost a tooth, an’ most o’ his | marriage to the present Mrs, Wellburn, and be— ha’'r— Hello! hyar is ther boss!” | fore I lost all confidence in her. Her extrava- ‘‘The boss” was Andrew Wellburn, who had | gance led me into financial distress, and I forged: entered just in time to interrupt this thrilling | the check, intending to make itall right in a few conversation. He took no notice of what little | days. Zadok Playfair discovered it. Did he he had heard said, but spoke kindly to both boys | expose me? No; he did a hundred times worse. and then began talking with Willis. Gaining ssion of the check, he has held it Bob, however, felt that time ought not to be | over my head as arod of chastisement ever since. wasted thus, and he seized the first chance to in- | I am in his power! I have known forsome time timate to Mr. Wellburn that he would like to | that he was robbing the bank, but I could not see him alone. The cashier took the hint, and, | interfere. I am helpless!” arranging it quickly, soon had the Bowery boy | ‘“‘ By hokey, J ain’t, an’ I’m goin’ ter prove it.” closeted witb bim in his private room. He at can you do?” ‘‘ Now, then, my lad, what is it?” ** Make Zadok howl like a hyena—which same- ‘* Tt’s a beast of a scheme,” he is. Now, let us inwestigate. Do you know ** So you’ve discovered something?” said Well- | Steve Rellix?” burn eagerly. ‘“Yes, Hekeeps a gambling-house on Grand ‘‘ Yes, but not in this house.” street.” “‘ Where, then?” ‘“‘ Jes’ so. Wal, why did he go howlin ’roundi a “‘ Andrew, ‘low me ter ask you a solemn in- | so?” terrog.” ‘‘T suppose he thought, because I went two or ‘¢ Go on! speak freely.” three times to his den, that he had me well Wellburn gave the permission after a mo- | hooked and would make a good’ deal of money ment’s hesitation, during which he scanned the | out of me. Discovering that Bargrade was spy- oung detective’s face closely. He would have | ing on me, he was afraid the man would break esitated longer had he known all the facts of | the thing up. As a result, he wanted to learn the case. who Bargrade was, and why he was following Other ears were so situated that they were | me.” likely to overhear all that was said. Just out-| ‘‘ That’s ther way! reasoned ther measly thing side the door some one crouched with her ear | out. Now, then, in referrin’ to Bargrade, I’ve close to the key-hole—her ear, for the would-be | kep’ back ther fact that I know bis real name. I eavesdropper was Miss Pray, | do know it, an’ wanter know ef a s’pishion o” She had gained the position with cat-like care | mine is korect. Who were Mrs. Dorcas Well- and noiselessness, and, her little blueeyes twink- ; burn afore she met you?” ling, was now prepared to hear all that was ‘“*She was a Brackett.” said, _“ Casually speakin’, you come right in like a The next words were certainly startling. little man. Wal, Bargrade is, really, named ‘“ Andrew,” said Boh soberly, ‘* permit me fer | Brackett, an’ he must be yer wife’s brother.” ter ask how much bullion you’ve stole from ther ‘* T suspected as much.’ Bonanza Bank?” ‘Yer see, him an’ her hez been playin’ a e fer ter slump yer, an’ he thinks he is all bank wi? CHAPTER XV. Zadok, but that measly old rooster ain’t got ther ‘Sa, HEAP 0’ EXPERIENCE.” | decency ter use nobody squar’, an’ it’s his leetle WELLBURN started. It was not strange that | game ter fool Brackett, an’ all ther rest, on’ slide he did, for the words spoken by Hotspur Bob | ter Europe wi’ ther seads.” were enough tocreate consternation. He looked | ‘‘-You have done remarkable work, my bov.” at the Bowery detective with alarm plainly ex-| ‘+ Who? Me? Oh, that ain’t nothen’! Tve- pressed on his face, and his voice was unsteady | only put two an’ two tergether; enyl ody kin as he replied: | tell that they make five. But, see ver’, Andrew, What do you mean, boy?” ‘have you been gamblin’ an’ gittin’ boozy om Wal, I shall be pleased ter eloocidate, but’ poor whisky?” pec uy ge »comicboo