Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 452 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

Rs - a es eee ee - sneezer, or w’otever his handle were, an’ they all advised me fer ter let my eloquence ripple, Wal, why not.Jet her ripple?” “Bah! you tink you is awful smart!” cried the negress, ** but I’s gv. ine ter show you a thing or two, ou make fun ob me, Co you, jes’ ‘cause Ts gt a brack skin? You done talked wid de wrong cne dis time, you fiend, an’ Vu gib you a@ lesson you'll remember fer a long while!” As she spoke she drew a long, uzly-looking knife from the folds of her dress, and flourished it about her head, ** Hello! w’ot’s ther riffle now?’ Bob asked. ‘*T’s gwine ter fiw you!. Satan take you! you insulted me, an’ now I’m gwine ter cut yer all ter picces, you young thief!” CHAPTER VIIL. ‘“ DODGE AND RUN!” As Bet. pronounced these words she waved the knife again, and her aprearance was really startling. She looked ugly enough for any crime, and the knifo also seemed to thirst for blood. Bob’s first impression that she was capa- ble of any crime received confirmation, and he knew that. he was.really in great danger. Despite. this, he. retained his calmness to a surprising degree. ‘*Gosh ter gracious! how you talk! <A’most make my blood stan’ on end an’ my hair curdle, b’gosh! Put up that awe ole toad-sticker, will ye? S’pose I wanter be slashed up like green cowcumbers?, Not fer Joseph!” ** [tf don’t make no sort ob diffrence w’ot you want,” Bet doggedly returned. ‘I’s gwine ter kill ye. A1de men is out—i’s been a-waitin’ fer dis chaince all day, an’ now I'l fix ye.” **See yer’, my colored frien’, ain’t ye a leetle hard ona poor orphan wo’t ain’t had ther ad- wantage o’ a college eddification” ‘‘Nebber you mind, You’s got ter die.” ** Casually akin’, we've all got a right smart chance.that way. W’ot’s ther use o’ hur- ryin’ ther obsequies? Let wal enough alone, sez I, an’ not go humpin’ around fer ter find Gabriel, or w’otever ther angel o’ death is called, ter wit, namely.” ‘Talk, alltalk. Is yer ready ter die?” Bet flourished the knife again. ‘“‘Nixy—not fer Josephus! W’ot fer do you persist in harpin’on one subject fer? Le’s talk about ther Board o’ Aldermen, or ther last opera uproar.” ** No, we won't talk no more. You made fun ob me dis mornin’, an’ nobody kin do dat. I’s gwine ter kill ye. De men is all gone, an’ I’s got dis thing my own way. [ll fix ye right away!” She advanced, and Bob saw that he was, in- deed, in great danger. Her coarse, brutal fea- tures told just how. little of mercy could be ex- pected; her sinister, gloating expression told that murder was really in her heart. Bob found himself compelled to do some quick thinking. How was he to escape? Black Bet was big, and as strong as a man; to could not hope to match her in a trial of strength; and, while he was wholly unarmed, she held the murderous knife, is chances seemed very poor, indeed. Only one means of relief occurred to him, and he proceeded to put itinto use. Bet had for- gotten to close the door, and he suddenly fixed his gaze on that point and caused his face to brighten, as from a joyful discovery “ Hyar, Steve—this way, quick!’ he exclaim- : The trick worked well. The negress wheeled, expecting to face her employer. She saw no @ne, however. She did offer the chance which Bob coveted, and he did not fail to improve it. Stooping, so as to make his small form still amaller, he shot past the woman like a flash and made for the open docr. He was beyond her before Bet realized the danger; but, when she saw him thus shooting forward, she uttered a shrill cry. “ Stop! stop, or Pll kill ye!” “Kill yer granddad!” With this retort Bob shot through the door. He had gained one point, but what lay beyond he did not know. Perhaps the next room would prove to bo locked, and he would be at the mercy af the female fiend. (ler heavy steps were already heard in pur- suit, and, looking back, the boy saw her rushing after bim, with the glittering knife ready for work. He made for the door. Would it prove to be unlocked? Hotspur ——~—-- : —————— S —w pn TU. | -- Bob, the Street B oy Detective. <7 PRETENSE ST ee | aN : take him, and then there seemcd to be no way | les such as only Gamin Bob could use took away of escaping the deadly knife. Eis hand touched tae door—he t and then disappointment awaited him. It was not } wrong door. Instead of seeing a flight of stairs which would lead him to the lower part of the house, there was nothing but a stairway which led to the floor above, It was a most unwelcome discovery, and seem- ed to indicate only fresh captivitv, but he was not in a situation to make elaborate choice. must go up, and that, too, with great rapidity, or meet the negress’s knife. Perceiving this, he did not hesitate. With a defiant cry be ran up the stairs, taking two at a leap. Bet was close behind, but she fell in the rear at this point. Her heavy body could not have been impelled two steps at a time by any power natural to her; indeed, it was as much as she could do to get up at all; she forgot this in her wrath, and made unusually good time, for she was determined that the boy should not escape. There seemed little danger of his doing this. The upper floor looked like the garret of a farm- house; it was unfinished, full of odds and ends, and had only one window—a small affair, which as Bob had already learned, did not admit of escape, He was now situated very much like a rat in a box; but his plan was already formed. A chimney passed through the middle of the room, and he thought that if he could decoy Bet behind this, in her pursuit, his chances would improve, “Hyar I be, Lily White!” he cried, as her woolly head arose, ‘‘ Look this way; only three for a quarter. Take one! See small bills for items.” ,. You debbil, you!” pouted Bet; ‘‘ Pll have you et! ‘*W’ot’ll ye hev me fur—better or wuss? Not fer Joseph! I ain’t ter be decoyed like that.” He was near the chimney, trying to induce her to advance, but she stood regaining her breath and making no movement. Whether she saw the danger to her hopes of success was uncertain. ‘You is a fiend!” she declared. **See hyar, Lily, can’t you git another string ter yer ole harp, or else put ther measly thing inter better tune? Grates on my ears like a rheumatic saw, b’gosh!” Bet did not reply. Her breath was comin back, and with it all her evil passions. She stil held the knife, and was resolved to use it to best advantage. To say that Bob was indifferent to the danger would be to incorrectly express it. He and Bet had the affair to themselves. There was little hope of interruption, and whoever came would not be his friend. But there was little prospect that any one would come. In that dark, low ee they would settle the question between them. Would it end in a tragedy? Assuredly it would, if the desperate woman with the knife had her way about it, She advanced, and Bob poised himself lightly to avoid her. If he fully realized his danger he was also clear-headed, aud he did not intend to be cut to pieces if he could avoid it. Several times Bet feinted, and her movements showed Bob that she reahzed the danger of having the chimney utilized against her. How could he accomplish his object? He began to talk in that vein which past expe- rience had shown him wasso aggravating to her, and succeeded in drawing a torrent of abuse from her, but she still kept warily on the safe side of the chimney. What was to be done? His eyes caught sight of a slender stick, or rod, leaning against a barrel, and, though it was too small to be used for an effective blow, he thought of a way in which it might be made more useful, Catching it up, he made a stroke at Bet’s knife- hand and nearly hit it. ‘Aha!’ he cried, ‘‘ two kin play keerds at ther same time, can’t they? Look out, Lily, I’m arter ye!” He made another stroke, actually hitting her on the knuckles, and her rage seemed to run away with her. She shook the knife and swore volubly. ‘Tl cub you in pieces!” she shouted. ‘You won't cut nothin’.” he airily replied. way an’ glad my yearnin’ heart. Prance them ethereal feet 0’ yourn right ’round hyar. Come ‘ 9 sweet gazelle!” re it open— | | and made a rush around the chimney, ocked, but he had opened the | He | ‘‘-You’re wuss than a Jame hoss wi’ a blind eve, | pasted in b Oh! come an’ see us, Lily; sling yer bigness this | what judgment the negress haa remai.ing. She forgot everything but her desire fo. revenge, It was the chance which Bob coveted. and he lost no time in improving it. The way was clear to the stairs, and he shot | in that direction like a young havguroo, | Hoop-la! Good-day, geutie Petty! Look yer last on Bowery Lob, E-squire, ter wit, | namely !” Bet uttered a screech as she realized the dan- Fer. but he did not stop for more parleying. | eaching the top of the stairs, he bounded | nimoly down, and by the time sbe reached the _ head he was in the room below. This time he made no mistake as to the proj er coor, His hand touched the kinol. Weuld it prove to be unlocked? Hurrah! yes; it turned, and he went through quickly. ‘**Eupluribuster! ther game o’ dodge an’iun goes on swimmin’ly. Now, ef no measly oe cook ain’t down blow, I’m all bunk, wi’ a chromeo flung in.” He was soon in the lower hall. The front cocr was locked, but the key was in its proper pluce. He gave ita wrench, flung open the door and shot out. He was on the street, and the whole world was practically before him. Bet’s steps were heard behind him, and, obey- ing a sudden impulse, be locked the door from the outside, putting the key in his pocket, and walked swiftly down the street. ** Out o’ quod, b’ hokey! Casually speakin’, I hev ther best o’ ther job, an’ I’m bettin’ bullion they don’t git ther grip on me a¢’in. Gosh all Cigar-stubs! Vl] make it bot fur ’em, right away. Ill call ther p’lice—no, | won't; not fer Joseph! Ill Jet ‘em spraw), an’ \ hen they come mousin’ ‘round ag’in, I’) find out jest wot their riffle is. They will come; sart’in they will; an’ then ther firm o’ B. Bowery, Vidocq & Co., will rattle their dry bones all ter dust. Hello/ who is that?” CHAPTER IX. BOB MEETS MRS. WELLBURN, THE boy stopped. There wasa possibility that he might be mistaken, but a second glance showed him that he was not mistaken. He hur- ried forwerd to the man’s side. ‘I say, Mr. Wellburn!” The cashier, for it was, indeed, he, looked down at the diminutive figure. ‘* Ah! my lad, is it you?” ‘* Ef ’pearance ain’t illusory, it’s jest me—Bob o’ ther Bowery, ter wit, namely.” “Upon my werd, so it is. What does this mean? Where have you heen, and why wasn't }cu at the bouse this morning?” ‘ That’s right: slap’em right in by ther whole- sale. I sorter like big trades. al, sirree, I wa’n’t round this A. M. ‘cause I hed a measly diffuglety onter my hands—couldn’t git away, nohow,” ‘* How is it now?” ‘I’m free ez a flea, an’ ef ye ain't gi’n out that ere posish ter a better-lookin’ chap, I'd jest like ter try it.” Wellburn looked sharply at Bob. His mind and eyes wereclearer than on the previous night, and he was trying to read theboy. The Hot- 1 be was doing the same thing and bis theory that Wellburn was stealing the cash of the Savings Pank would have wavered but for one thing. Thecashier’s face was not a bad one, but he bad been under the influence of liquor the night before, and, young as Bob was, he knew that hquor degrades the man who uses it, and saps his vitality. ‘* The last I saw een, Wellburn said, after a pause, ‘‘ you had left me to spy onthe cab that was following us up-town.” ‘* Ko-rect.’ ‘* ‘What was your success?” ‘‘ Nothin’ screamin’, though if it badn’t been fer a knock-kneed, cross-eyed, measly p’liceman, l’d been all hunk, sure pop.” Rob’s voice expressed great disgust, ‘‘Tell me atl that happened,” Wellburn directed. Bob obeyed, so far as the events of the stolen ride were concerned, but he did not tell how Bar- grade had visited him in the morning, nor what an adventure he had since bad. He was tempted to tell this, for Andrew Wellburn impressed him better than before. but he wisely governed him- self bya rule which everybody ought to have is bat: . Never tell that which you doubt the wisdom of making known, until after sober secon | thought! ‘ | The casbier heard ahout the man and the wo- Lf it was fastened the negress would soon over- These words, accompanied by grins and chuck- ' man in the carriage with evident perplexity. ae . ~ =<! <.. . ! —_ , - — ; . » os : om mw