Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 485 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

a 4. “ Git Thar” Owney, the Unknown. ‘** Home?” repeated the hard-visaged man, ‘‘ Why are you in sucha hurry to go home? You always wanted to come to New York to see the sights, and now you are here, going to theaters and having a general good time with your father, you are always wanting to go home.” “No, Iam not, father. I only asked you. I am enioyins myself very much,” “You are, eh?’ was the surly response. ‘“ Well, eat your supper as if you liked it and don’t worry ”’ “Miss Vavasour,”’ said Owney, addressing the lady by her name—her stage designation—for the first time, ‘‘ I think I shall be able to give you some news of your diamonds within a week.’ “* Do you think so?’’ responded Miss Vavasour, de- lightedly. “ ** You must not be disappointed if I do not, “re- marked Owney, “ but 1 hope to have good news for you in that time.” The farmer and his daughter were quietly eating some cukes and ice-cream, the farmer washing it cown with claret. Owney was looking in the face of the girl in the mirror, but without her observing him, ‘* Where have I seen that face before?’’ he asked himself as he played with the spoon in his coffee, which the waiter bad just set before him. Miss Vavasour and her husband professionally known a» Basil Montgomery was chatting away on theatrical subjects, unmindful of Owney, who was too much absorbed in contemplation of the face of the girl behind him te join in the conversation, even if he had been interested in the theme. Suddenly he started as his eyes dilated wiih as- tonishment, Miss Vavasour and Basil Montgomery continued to chatter away and did not notice him, The farmer was slowly sipping his claret, while the girl looked timidly in his face occasionally, as if mutely appealing to him to take her home, She had thrown open a light opera shaw] which rested on her shouldeis, and it was when she made this movement that Owney had started. “* Always something coming up whcn you least ex- pect it,” thought Owney. **)"ll git thar yet.” * Well, Mr. Pearson,’ said Bosil Montgomery, as Miss Vavasour signified her desire to go home, “if oe have anything more to communicate, you can nd us at our old address, on 373¢ street,” The two got up, said good-by to Owney, glanced carelessly at the farmer and his daughter asa they passed and disappeared, Owen Pearson, took out a notebook and selected a certain page for reference, “Here it is,’’ he said, June 25th. Have a reed to row a match on the Hulton course with any one— William Skinner, known as ‘Scrawny Will,’ shall select—I to receive five hundred dollars if I win, with all my expenses for training, etc., and fifty collars as payment for my services in any event, That is cllright as far as it goes,” he added, as he returned the notebook to his pocket. ‘*But I must take care that it does not interfere too much with my _busi- ness. Scrawny Willis a deep one. and he will try and use me asif I were a mere machine unless I teach him that I have some will of my own,” The farmer at the table behind Mim had finished his claret, and was styetching himself as if in pre- paration for departure. Owney watched him closely. * You had better fasten that shawl of yours,” said the farmer, in his gruff tones to the young girl. * ‘** Yes, father.” She lifted her hand to prasp the end of the shawl, and again Owney startei, with the look of intense peg hment that had passed over his face once be- ore. ‘Surely I saw it,” he thought. ** Are you ready?” asked the farmer of his daugh- r. *’ Yes, father.” “Well, come on, then.” He walked over to the desk to pay for his refresh ments, and the young girl fastened her shawl. *‘I must find out whether I was right, somehow,” thought Owney. He glanced at himself in the mirror and saw that, as a seedy book-agent, his appearance was not very prepossessing; he would frighten the girl if he spoke to her, even supposing he had a good excuse What should he do? The farmer was still at the desk, waiting for his change, and had his back to the table where the young girl sat arranging her shawl. Owney was quick at expedients. The l’s handkerchief lay at the edge of the table. e got up, walked carelessly past, and man- aged to brush the handkerchief to the floor with his coat; then immediately stooped and returned it, with a bow. The girl thanked him, and was passing on. Then, he paused suddenly, and said: **T beg Pied pardon; 1 think that cg: in your col- lar is unfastened, and you may lose it,” | She put up her hands to her throat, displacing the shawl a little as she did so. Owney’s eyes dilated as he turned away and to- ward the desk, meeting the farmer face to face. . ous! I was right,” muttered Owney to himself. ‘Now what am I to do?” What was it that had caused him so much aston- ishment, and what was the suspicion that had been pis when the girl had fastened the pin at her throa ay wore the stolen diamond necklace around her neek. There was no doubt about it. Owney had had it carefully described to him, and could not be mistaken, It consisted of three pendants, the one in the cen- ¢ * : : : f 5 Lie al Le -; ies eae, « a Re Ke nate Le ES Sy. , . a. aq- x : Ts . ol oS r . Tarr ab- > : be é 2 yee y ~~ ie, a a ~ ath *., q 2 ee 5 _ é > . Pn “ead: . ry : a aad : _ =a - Pr a>. w 7 —_ ee ee ter being made up of one large stone surrounded by smaller, the whole in the shape of a heart. Those on each side were across and anchor respectively, the three representing the emblems of Faith, Hope and Charity. There was yet another peculiarity about the necklace—one which made Owney quite certain as to its identity. Standing cut distinctively from the string of stones that formed the necklace proper, and apparently supporting the center pend- ant, Was a superb emerald, Its rich green bues were shown to advantage among the ever-changing rays of light from the diamonds, and attracted the atten- tion of the observer despite his will. How had this young and apparently innocent girl come into possession of the dewelas Owney could see only one solution of the riddle, and that was that, if she were uot a thief herself, she had been made the tool of unscrupulous people. One thing was certain. He must never let the girl out of his sight until he gained possession of the necklace. He could have arrested her then, but he felt sure s°‘mehow that she was not the guilty one, and though he desired to regain the property, he looked upon the arrest of the thief as at least of as much importance, e stood at the desk and asked what he had to pay, but was told by the cashier that the gentleman with him had settled for everything. **Do P at know that person who just paid that bill, and whois with that young lady over there?”’ asked Owney, cone The cashier was an old New Yorker and knew all about confidence-men, bunco-steerers, and such like, and Owney,in his book-agent character, did not minted be? prepossessing. So he answered rather shortly: ‘Farmer, I guess, but I do not know him. He may be a detective for aught I know. The police put on strange disguises sometimes,” ‘* Exactly. Owney smiled an inward smile as he thought how near the cashier had hit the mark about police officers and their disguises. The farmer was near the door, and Owney turned away from the desk to keep him and his daughter in sight, while the cashier at his desk watched him wg ang S ‘Guess he will rope the old fellow in,”’ thought the cashi-r. ‘'I can’t helpit, though. It is none of my business, and New York is a place where a stranger must take his chances,”’ Down the steps to the street went the farmer and daughter, Owney close behind. There might be trouble before the night was through, and Owney felt in his pockets to make sure that his pistol, handcuffs and other articles he might need, were haniy, and that his credentials as a porn officer of the law were safe in his inside pocket, ‘*Guess you want to go to bed, don’t you, May?” said the farmer. ‘* Yes, father, I am very tired.”’ ‘* Well, we will go down to the Sinclair House and you can go to bed. We will go home to-morrow probably.” ‘Crook Cripps, I want you,’’ suddenly came from the lips of a quiet-looking man, rather below the medium hight aad with the aepanTence of a solid merchant as he placed his hand on the farmer’s shoulder. The farmer glanced hastily over his shoulder with the half-terrified, half-deflant look of a hunted animal, Then, with a malghty effort, he tore him- self loose, aimed a blow at the quiet-looking man’s face which fell short, and sped down toward Fourth avenue at the top of his speed. with the quiet-look- ing man and a dozen others in pursuit. The whole incident had taken place in a few seconds, and Owney had never taken his eyes off the irl. . She seemed dazed and faint, as Owney put out his band to save her from falling and found himself alone with the possessor of the diamond necklace who seemed to be now utterly friendless, late at night in tue heart of a great city. “ Hero’s a pretty fix,” said Git Thar Owney. CHAPTER IV. , HOW SCRAWNY WILL AND CROOK CRIPPS FOUND THEM- SELVES IN A TIGHT PLACE, Wuen Scrawny Will recognized the fact that Owney had given them all the slip, his weazened features were distorted almost out of all resem- blance to humanity by disappointment, rage and mystification. e looked at Frank Burton scowlingly, but it was evident that the latter s ared in the general aston- ishment, and knew no more what had become of Owney than any one else in the room. The spectators in the body of the hall who had risen to their feet in the excitement of the moment, had quietly settled back in their seats. A row more or less at Baggs’s was not a thing to make a lasting eee: | tretcher Bull having obeyed the order to go up- stairs was out of sight, and Jim Cupre stood at one side of the stage waiting anxiously for the next move of Scrawny Will, who somehow held the giant in complete subjection, _ “Get out of this!’ was Scrawny Will’s order to Cripps. ; ‘Where shall I go?”’ ‘sé rs) the PS | | Cripps did not ask for the conclusion of the sen- tence, but sneaked otf the stage and sat down at a table in the rear of the room. where he could meeP his eyes on Scrawny Will without being near enoug oe tee ———e 8 —_—_——— to get a snub occasionally from the irascible little: man. “Now, Frank Burton, what have you done with my boy?’ asked Scrawny Will, as the two moved to the side of the stage, out of sight of the audience, while the master-of-ceremonies announced asong by the red-nosed waiter. “Why, the boy who was wrestling with that pro- fessor, as he calls himself,”’ “I told you before that I do not know anything about him, and I repeat it. Now, I do not want you to ask me that question again. If you do there will. be trouble. and you know what that means when Frank Burton says it.” Scrawniy Will looked straight into Frank Burton’s eves and the latter returned tbe glance unflinch- nely. , arent Burton was undoubtedly speaking the. ruth. ‘I believe you,” said Scrawny. “Shake!” _The two shook hands and came down through a. side door into the auditorium. Frank Burton went up-stairs to see Stretcher Bull, while Scrawny looked around for Jim yey ‘**Are you looking for me. captain?’ asked Cripps, as he stepped up in front of the little man, ‘Yes. Come along.” ‘“‘Wait a minute. I’ve just ordered a lemonade,’” said the pugilist. ‘* Have one with me.” ‘““No. We have something else to do besides drinking,” was the stern reply. ‘‘ Let the lemonades: go Jim Cripps did not like this arrangement, but he dared not resist the orders of the little man, who held him down with such aniron hand, despite the pugilist’s brute strength, so he followed him into the street su bmissively. ‘You are starting in well to earn that five hundred: dollars, ain’t you?” said Scrawny, sarcastically, as- soon as the two were outside. ** Well, how could I help it?” ‘Did you say anything at allto Stretcher?” ‘‘No. How could 1? I'd jist got him down-stairs, and was jist goin’ to spring the Jayon bim when that there professor commenced a-poundin’ and an” a-wrestling with the ycung feller, Then you come in an’ interfered, an’ Stiet ber jumped onter you, and I jumped on ter Stretcher, and there we all was. ‘Well, you will have. a harder job now than ever, because Burton will watch his man closer, but you must get at him scmeltow. He must not win that. race, [ have too much up already on the unknown.”” ‘Well, what are yer lettin’ yer unknown go ‘roun’ the Kowery at nights for? Don’t ye think it may spile him a little?” “Yes. Confound him! I thought he was safe in Pittsburg. Ycu_ never know when you have these young fellows. I must find out where he is and take care of him myself until I want to use him. That is one thing I want you fcr—to help me find him. I will telegraph to Pittsburg in the morning and see if x can learn anything abcut him. I really do not know much sbout him anyhow save that he lives there witb his widowed mother.”’ Cripps was about to say something in reply when a farmer-looking man, walking swiltly toward them jostled Jim Cripps rather rudely. Pe: ‘* Where are yer shovin’?” was the latter's indig- nent query ?”’ ** What's that?” said the stranger. Then he started back with a cry of recognition. ss Wh ‘ Jim }”? * Hallo, Josh)!” “Hush, the cops are after me, on that Montville bank job.” “Shut yer mouth, can’t yer,’ said Jim Cripps, looking fearfully around. ‘Don’t ye see as there is a gentleman present. and it isn’t perlite to talk over family matters before him?” *‘Isn’t he cnto the racket?” ‘ Scrawny, this is my brother, Josh, generally known as Crook Cripps. ‘cause bis big toé isa little crooked,”’ said Jim, with a grin, ‘' Josh, let me make you acquainted with Scrawny Will, a square man and a sport from the ground up.” ore two men shook hands, and then Crook Cripp# said: ‘Jim, those cops are not farcff. and I had to leave May by herself on the street in Union Square,” “Yes, I could not do anything else.” “Dangerous for a POONER, “I know it. but the cop had bis hand on my shoul- der and I just had to run.” ' Scrawny stood quite still during the foregoing conversation. He prided himself on being a square man, who never did anything to make him afraid of a policeman. At the same time he was not above associating to some extent with those who put their hands to shady jobs, when it suited his purpose, so that it was generally considered safe to talk before him, ‘‘Now, what do you propose to do?’ inquired Ey | ‘*Go back by a roundabout way and look for May," said Crook. ‘‘I can’t leave the girl by herself without trying to find her.” The three turned into a side street, and walked rapidly in the direction of Union Square. awny was looking for Owney, end he thought he would be just as uke to come across him in one direction as another. He had no particular expec- tation of finding kim_on the street, but he felt too nervous and excited to sleep, and trisk walking suited him better than anything e!se. ‘*Look out! Separate!” suddenly cried Crook. as he made a dive for an open doorway they then chanced to be passing. . e. 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