Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 452 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

ee of Olive Pray. The cashier opened the door hurriedly, anxious to be away, and ‘went ont. Ont to what? uk Tage CHAPTER IT. A STREET BOY'S ADVENTURE. “Warn, I don’t see no perticlar reason fur hangiv ’reund hyar. Things seem quiet, ef ther streets is full o? meashy cut-throats an’ pock- pickets, an’ I reckon I'll h-ave ahead an’ anchor my corporal body in ther giitterin’ abode o? wealth whar me an’ Stumpy bucks. Mebbe, too, }°il hev an adventur’ goin’ home.” The speaker was a bey of about sixteen years. The steno was Grand street, New York. Who has ever been on this thoroughfare by night without carrying away a mental picture of it which must long remain? I is like atritu- tary of the Bowery in a double sonzse, The people who tread the one strech also tvead the other, though the Bowery is by far the more frequented. But, Grand street is seldom deserted, and in the early hours of the night its sidewalks echo the tread of many people. Rich and poor pass in the glare and glitter of tae eloctric lights, thouch the former class is in a hopeless minori- ty. The great majority is composed of poor people, and many of them are of a vicious turn of mind, There are more dangerous places in great (ovham than Grand street, but there ave far safer places. The tramp, the pickpocket, the sarroter, the sneak thief is there. Le goes to ply his trade, and the field is favorable. The person whose soliloquy opened our story, looked ** to the manner born.” » ‘lear ly, he wasa city ‘boy; oue of that sharp, precocious, waril- wise class who are toughened by hard knocks from infancy. All too.often this life makes them vicious, in which case they goto swell the crowd of evil eople already in prison, but many are honest in spite of fate; and ef this class was the boy before mentioned. Hes was about moving avvay after his mutter- el words, when two men came out of a dark doorway and paused near bim to light their cigars. Flashy looking fellows were they, and he had no trouble in “sizing them up.” The upper part of the building from which they had come was a gambling-house, and those who frequent- ed it, gamblers, If this fact was not known to the police, it wasto the boy, though he had never been inside. Entrance,-in fact, was extremely dificult. The two men, failing to see the boy, began to ‘talk. 7 : ‘“Wellburn is playing heavily to-night.” 4*¥os, and drinking, even more:heayily.” ‘“FTqls bound to go to. ruin,” | ‘‘Reckon you're right there” ‘“TTe’s a fool. He has a family, and I must gay hevhas no-business to act the fool under such circumstances. I’m no saint, -but then, Pm a ‘bachelor”” ' “\Yellburn is in that mood when aman drives straight to the devil if his horses hold out. Hoe’s ‘bound to. go-his length, and the boys are not re- jactant to help him, These are good cigars, ms “Fine. What did they cost?” The reply was lost as they moved away. Their minds had abruptly changed subject, but not.so wtih the listener. ° He looked after. them tho ehtfully. “Wellburn! Inever heard o’ but one man. that name. He is ther cashier o’ ther Bonanza Rovings Bank. Can't behini, o’ course, fur ther irectors 0’ ther bank wouldw’t hoy no pambolier fur cashier—leastways, I hope not, considerin’ as how my cash is in that ere ban!” The idea of a ragged street boy having money in.a bank would have seemed lndicrons.to some people, but it is a fact that many.New York boys are wise enough to save up their pennies and nickels thus, and this boy had considerable in the Bonanza. : He looked up thoughtfully at the building, for the possibility that the Wellburn mentionied. by the other.mén might really be the cashier, had rather discomposed him. “Tif its him, jest cz like ez not. he’s gamblin’ away therfundse’ther bank. Cashiers hev a leanin’thet way, Lreeret-fer ter say, an’ it may he my own ducéts he’s a-slinein’ roun(| ter-night, T'd like ter. 809 ther eban, I jist would!” : Fis vish was crented. much sooner than he had expected. "The dcor opened again und another man-came out. “Figs manner. was. not socareless and solf-re- " aaah an ’ as thet of the. other men. He came out.and paused-on the sidewalk, looking up and RR RR mm me me ae ee = down the street. The boy saw that he was con- siderably under the influence of liquor, and he saw more. The man’s face was haggard and wretched; he looked like one who had met with a great mis- fortune and was on the verge of delirium. Worse than all, the young watcher recognized in him the very man he had hoped not to see— Wellburn, the casbier of the Bonavza Bank. ** Gosh all flea-bites! this is bad. Is this ther sort o a chap [ve banked my pile with? | | | He’s a | measly garmbolier, is he? Wal, this ain’t’cordin’ | ter Hoyle—not fur Joseph!” Wellburn raised his hand and brushed it across his face. Perhaps the liquor had created a mist which obscured tis vision, but his mind tion. ss 9) (frone—all gone!” he muttered. night of folly, dissipation, loss. penniless. Curse the luck! will the cards never run to suit me? Iam the football of fate—the unluckiest wretch alive.” It was a melancholy sight. He was far enough advanced in years so that his hair and beard were silvered with age, and there he stood in the street at midnight, alone, befogged with liquor and made temporarily penniless by gambling. And this was the man who handled the money of trusting thousands, day by day! The boy abserver felt that he ought to have a personal interest in the matter, and: s Well- burn turned toward the Bowery, after a pause he followed. ** Mebbe he'll go aw’ bu’st ther bank, or skip ter Canada,” he thoucht. ‘‘ Jest ez wal that my heagile eve should be onter him. In ther name.o’ ther law, Mr. Badburn, or w’otever yer name is, ’m arter yer, T be!” Ide continued the pursuit, taking care to keep wollin the rear, but Wellburn was not in mood to see or hear any one. He walked on with unsteady step, furnishing one of those street scenes so pitiable and so common. Only a few reds had he gone, however, when two men suddenly emerged from a small, dark cross styueet and fellin behind hina. The boy pursver had started. At one glance he marked them as .birds of prey. -Ragéged. dirty and lawless of appearance, they Jooked just like that class of men wno live,;by means of dark deeds done at night. What meant their suddep appearance at the heels of the half-intoxicated man? “Tl bet a Dutch cheese they was in ambush fer sanié sech Vagabones ez ole Wellburn,” thonght the hoy. *‘Reckon they think he’s loaded with cash an’ spondulicks, an’ they mean ter ‘knock -bim silly an’ scoop ther bullion, Pretty scheme that, but ef they tries ter put a bit in bis mouth you) hear this hoss squeal!” The youth was very much in earnest. He felt that Wellburp was.in danger, and ell his sympathy went_agninst the roughs. What could be done? No-peliceman was in sicht, and his streneth would avail little when opposed to that of the thugs. “The critters is goin’ ter do. him up, fer sure! Whar’s there & copper? .’Course thar ain’t none ’round when he’s;wanted—thar never is. Wot is ter be done? ‘Them chaps mean biz, an’ I ain't beef.enough. to stop ’em: an’ it won't do no ort o sood fer me ter give ther alarum er Wallburn. He ain’t no more fit ter Jook out fer hisself than a two-year-old kid.” It was really a perplexing situation, and the boy continued to follow and look for a police- man. He saw none, and matters soon came toa crisis. The.drunken. cashier had evidently reached a point where the pursuers thought they could try their game successfully, for they suddenly push- ed forward, and the boy saw one of them raise ablunt weapon which looked like a sand-bag. It would not.do to, hesitate longer. the weapon was hovering over, Wellburn’s head. j If it descended it, might deal a,fatel, blow. The street. boy's voice rung out sharply: ade gyi police! .Let up thar, you measly pirat> The warning came too Jate; the murderous -hand fell, and: Welburn, heavily stricken, drop- ped to the sicewalk, The cry, however, Was not without effect, as was speedily shown. Despite the fact that their prey lay at their feet, they ran. ignominiously away, never stopping, to look behind them. ‘The boy Jaughed aloud. : Coch all pertater-bu . them is chaps 0’ sand, they, is. Strange, that. they got up grit enough fur sech measly work. al, so. long; v |isher. Net much! was Clear enough for him to realize the situa- | : ee —— nn an’ ihen skipped ** Another TLamonce more | - TT , — Hotspur Bob, the Street Boy Detective. 3 ee ee eee we kin do without yer, ez ther toad said when hi swallered a boa-cornstructer.. Hello! he’s a- squirmin’ |” I'he last remark referred to Wellburn. He was feebly trying to rise, and the boy hastened to his side, ‘*’Low me ter give yea boost. Grapple onter my paw an’ elevate yer corpus. Brace up! Legs ain’t wu’th youch, be they?) Wobble ’round like a hose-pipe, don’t they ?” tle had ‘been trying to assist Wellburn to his feet, but the latter was like a dead weight. ‘Give me time,” he said. ‘* You are not the man who hit me, are you?” r Joseph! Vm no gallus skull-demol. Them ez did it hez cut their slapped you ker-slap over the cranium » be Not — luck Vv. The old nan. somewhat sobered but covered with dust and mud, looked af his new friend a closely as his blurred vision would allow. ‘* Boy, you look honest,” he said, ‘*T feel that way.” ‘* Who are you?” ‘Tm a ’spectable member o’ ther Boar¢ 9’ Trade an’ Traflic, clerk o’ ther Shoeblack \x- change an’ peanut nabob o’ ther Bowery,” “Your name, I mean—what is that?” “Wal, that’s a pussonal interog, bu’ 41 don’t mind sayin’ it’s Bob. Not Rob Burus, poet, nor Rob Roy; but twenty-first cousir ter Patsy Burns, o’ Skunk Holler. All this Viographical is waste material, hows’ever. ‘If ev’ryday life im ginerally called Bob o’ te Bowery, or Gamin Bob, or Hotspur Bob. Seems ter be jest my luck ter git nick-named.” ae ** Don’t talk all night!” ey .zaimed the cashier, tantly; and then he added mare gently: ““Ipre- sume you are well acqueiated here?” * You kin bet yer bu’%sion on that, boss,” ‘* You see me in a v etched plight.” ‘Jes’ so. Ther tunglefoot hey wrastled ye, | . . - $ : an’ ther tough rap ved ye silly. ° Ha) d lines, hut I never knoweds man whocould swim in whisky *thout gittin’ wre.” ade ‘‘ Let that rass. I am weak and miserable, and I need scme one to help mé home.” T have money enc.gh to pay for a cab, but in my pres- ent condit.on I could not tell whether I'was be- ing drivnm heme or not. The cabman might betray we. Will you go with me?” Bob was about to enswer affirmatively, but at that momenta hand fell heavily on bis'shoul- der. CHAPTER UW]. MYSTERIOUS PURSUERS. THE boy wheeled quickly, thinking that one of the toughs might haye retired, but’ stich was notthe fact. -A men was there, but not the kind of a man Bob had cxpécted to see. He was a tall person, but more then this was hid from view by the capacicus folds of a cloak and a.big, slouch hat. What sort of a man Was under, and inside, all this emount of clothing Bob could not tell, de aye, ‘What are you doing?” harshly asked the stranger. | oe és Me @”7 *“Of course. Who else coald I mean?” ‘‘ Any cne o’ a burdred million feller-hein’s, but that part ain’t important. “You mean me, so I will chart aeplry in yor starboard ¢ar. |] ain’f ddin’ nothin’.” ‘You're robbing this drunken man.” ‘*Robbin’ yer granddad! Wot d’ye take me fur? Dol a a Pena road-agent? Ever see my pictur’ in ther Rogues’ Gallery? Not foe ddan r° . wen p ey “This talk won’t saye you. I shall cell an officer and haye you arrested.” The stranger spoke resolutely, end, as Well- burn seemed to have relapsed into nnconscicus- ness, Bob perceived that ‘the situation might grow serious. Wellburn had undoubtedty part with consideratle mCney, and ‘he might see fit to chime in with the stranger and make matters hot for the boy. ‘“*'You’re way off yer quadrant, mister,” Bob asserted. .‘‘’m hyar solely ez a Samaritan, anh’ not ez a gale erado, i was a-tryin’ ter cheer up his nibs. hyar, who is j ‘Ol clear fas his high hoots,” 2 ib aura Luckily for the speaker, Welburn sew fit to arouse from, his abstraction at this pcint. He Mata ro ao oe toa raed friend, My lad, where is the ’ ’ pages Wie tics be off,” BEF a WNP? ob saw _keen eyes looking at. him from er pe apart hat, and then the Meaniper co ae indly. | ‘* Perbaps, I was basty in my remarks. _Let me see you privately a moment, boy” ~ * ” He stepped aside and, as he.did not, gofar, Bob