Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 485 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

ed re a ee — ew eee —™ “e ” ** But I don’t like to go intoa place like that.” ** Isn't Sting with you?” meh | **And do you think I would lead you into any danger?” “*No,” hesitatingly. **Come on, then.” Scrawny Will meant business, and he did not want to have his arrangements upset by a girl’s scruples about entering a saloon. He walked down the dark hall where the reader has already been several times, the girl timidly fol- lowing with Sting close at her heels. She derived much more courage from the presence of the dog than from that of Scrawny Will. Scrawny Will paused when he reached the inner door and peered through the red glass on which was painted the words, ** Sample Room,” ‘* Both in there, by Jiminy!’ he exclaimed. He pushed the door open, after telling the girl to wait in the hall, and entered. ‘* Hallo, Scrawny!” said the two young men who had robbed May, who were leaning againt tne bar in conversation with the red-headed bartender. ‘* Hallo, yourself,’’ was Scr .wny’s gruff response. ‘**Where Lave you been, Scrawny?’’ asked the bar- tender. **None of yer business,” ‘* Well, what’ll you drink?” asked one of the young men. ‘* Nothing, just now.” ‘Kinder out of sorts, ain’t you, Scrawny?”’ ** Kinder.” ‘* What's up?” **Come bere, both of you. I want to speak to you privately,” said Scrawny. ‘‘Come outside in the hall.”’ “Say, Scrawny, this ain’t no give-away is it?” asked the other. ‘*No, it ain’t as yet, but I don’t know what it might be if you don’t do as I tell you,” returned Scrawny. ‘'Come out in the hall, [ tell you,” Whatever may have been the nature of the mys- terious power which Scrawny Will seemed to hold over so many Of his associates, it was evident that the two young men were thoroughly under its in- fluence. They followed him out in the hall without another word. . Sting gave a little growl. Both the young men started. Then May stepped forward into the light and they started again. ‘“*Scrawny,’’ said one, give away?” ‘Didn't . tell you it wasn’t?” ‘*VGs,”” *‘ And do I ever lie to you?” ‘No, Scrawny, of cours: you don’t, You know, I never said you did; now did I, Scrawny?” The young man was evidently anxious to mollify Scrawny. ‘‘Now, where is that necklace?” said Scrawny, suddenly. ‘* What necklace?” “‘No fooling. Where is that necklace???” The two young men looked in each other’s faces, and then one of them, stooping, slowly and reluc- tantly drew the diamond necklace from his boot. May uttered a cry of joy When she saw her neck- lace again, and put out her hand to Scrawny for it. * Never mind, May. I'll take care of them for the present,” said Scrawny, coolly, as.he ‘placed the diamonds in an inner pocket ‘They will be safer with me than with you until we find your father.” Then he turned to the young: men again, ‘*You know something about a friend of mine,” he said, suddenly. * What friend are you talking about?” ‘* A man who was with this girl when you hooked her necklace.”’ ‘ *T don’t know what yon are talking about,” said one of the young men, with a look of injured inno- cence, ; ‘* You don’t?” es Pag ‘He was last seen in your company.” “He wasn’t. Hs went out on Broadway and svoke to a dozen people after he left us.” Scrawny Will chuckled to himself. Owney had been with them then. He had only surmised it be- fore. but now he knew it. “T want that young man, and I’m going to find out from you where he went.” ‘“*How do we-know where he went? He left us and walked away. New York is a big city, and he might be anywhere for what we know.” * Perhaps right under our feet,” said Scrawny. The two young men turned pale. Was Scrawny \Will a very devil, that he could find out anything? ; | Not at ail. Scrawny was talking at haphazard, and, as is often the case, bad accidentally and un- knowingly come near the truth. “Are you going to tell me?’ asked Scrawny. **Remember, I have this young lady here ready to make a charge against you.” ‘* You are sure this ain’t a The young men knew that Scrawny Will did not }, often indulge in idle threats, and they also knew that he could have them both in the hands of the police in thirty seconds if he chose. ‘Look here, Scrawny,” said one, after they had whispered together for a minute, ‘‘T'll tell you all about it, but don’t give me away,or by Cesar, I'll be a dead man.”’ “That’s just what you will be if you say another word,” interrupted Frank Burton, as he suddenly ap- peared in the doorway and covered each of tue young men with a heavy * bulldog” revolver. av pa . . ° - @ as " ‘ oe ae’. ~*~ “ Jimny e RE? , aS wv a) t—- i —— ee ee ee Eee ee SSS... — 1 ee ———E— = = oo OC CHAPTER IX, OWNEY TAKES A TERRIBLE TRIP IN COMPANY WITH AN OLD GRAY RAT. **CouLp I have been dreaming?’ said Owney to himself. “‘Ican swear 1 heard some one telling me tocome tothearch. But there is nothing but darkness, and I don’t see how anybody could be speaking to me here.” He was perplexed. Could there be any way out through this arch, and was the owner of the voice a friend who desired to help him out of his predicament? It certainly looked like it, And yet, on the other hand, from all he could make out by the dim light of the taper, there was not a vestige of foothold for any one under this mys- terious archway. The file was in his hand, A sudden thought struck him. He would not wait for any further help than he had already received. He would try and get out himself. The arch must have been put there for some pur- pose, and he would endeavor to determine its use. If nothing more came of it, it would occupy him while he was waiting for release. He had noticed, on the ground by his side, when he had lighted his taper to read the note sent in the loaf, a huge stone. He brought it over to the arch, and with it ham- mered the sharp end of the file—a very stout one— ant the mortar between two of the bricks of the wall, ‘That will do!’ he exclaimed, as he tested its strength and found that it would easily bear his weight. ‘** Now for the rope,”’ He examined the rope which the bartender had accidentaliy dropped, and saw that it was some twelve or fificen feet long—much more than he wouid require, : With a practiced hand, he fastened one end of the rope securely to the fil- and let the other dangle into the pit just through the arch. He heard the rope strike the water below and saw that the stronz current was causing it to drag out from the wall to which it was fastened. That did not trouble him, however. would make the rope hany straight. He was going down into the pit tose», or rather feel, what sort of a place it was, and whether there was any chance of escape that way. Seizing the rope firmly with both hands, Owney let himself down, hand over hand, until his feet touched the water, Then he threw himself around in every direction trying to find a resting-place for his feet. Nothing but water! Where did the voice come from that called him to the arch? As he hung on the rope, swaying to and fro he glanced upward, All was blackness, and— No! Stav! He could dis- tae a gleam of light high up in the vault of gioom . A small star it appeared at first. Then as his strained eyes grew more accustomed to the shadows he saw that the light came from a square opening leading apparently into the outer worid. ‘“Owney, where are you?” The voice came echoing down to him, muffled and throaty, like that of a ventriloquist. Then he saw a round object partly obscure the square opening. The round object was a man’s head, and the mys- tery of the voice was explained. ‘“Owney, where are you?” repeated the voice. ‘*Come to the archway!” ‘Hello, above, there!’? yelled Owney, in return. “Who is that?” ‘*Never mind. You'll know some time. and I don’t want to sing out my name now. I don’t know who might hear me,” returned the voice, in the same strained, muffled tones, ; “Did you send me a message?” asked Owney, as he still kept bis feet moving in the hope of finding some support, ‘*Yes; that’s all right, [like to give amana square deal, and I don’t allow no man to be worked foul in a race with me.” ‘What, are you—?” “Hush | S-s-h!” eried Stretcher Bull for he it was as he bent further down over the sewer drop. * Don't mention my name. It is all a put-up job to mnoes eu out for the race, and I’m going to help ou “Thanks! Do as much for you some day, per- haps.”’ said Owney, briefly, for he was beginning-to get a little tired, strong and vigorous as his muscles were, Holding to a rope, without any otber assis- tance is fatiguing work * That’s all right. Now listen.” 7s m listening,” returned Owney. ., Let yourself down to the water.” y I’m there already.” , :, Good It isonly about three feet wong Tt The deuce!’ ejaculated Owney, as be immedi- ately dropped into the water and stcod on the bot- tom of the sewer. ** What's that splashing?” asked Stretcher Bull. in Nothing of any consequence,” said Owney. Allrig it. Well, the only way for you to get out of that, unless you want to stay there a couple of weeks, Is through the sewer,” ‘Through the sewer?” ‘**That’s what I said.” ** Why can’t Il get up to where you are?” ‘***Cause you can’t. This is a sewer drop in a nar- rowalley. There wouldn’t be hardly room for you to get through even if you could climb up here, which you couldn't.” His weight t Thar” Owney, the Unknown. 9 o. ae ee ees ee ee ee —_— ‘*W.ll, Iguess you know,” said Owney, resigned- ly. “Guess I do.” **Go on with your scheme,” ‘*Tt’s just this. That sewer runs into the East River.” “Wer ‘** But it’s a long way from where you are.”’ **T know it.” ‘You'll have to walk along until you get near the outlet.” ‘*Go on.” ‘** When you ge. within a few feet, unless the tide is very low, you will have to dive.” “But you might have room to swim right out if the water isn’t up to the top of the sewer arch,” “*Got to take chances, of course,” said Owney. ‘* Course |’ ‘*Much obliged to you, old man ” “No you ain’t When anybody tries to do any funny business overa race as I’m in, I’m goin’ to give them the ‘dcuble cross,’ every time, you can bet. Besides, I saw you lay out that English wres- tlin’ professor, an’ I’ve kinder took a shine to you, d’ye see?” ‘Glad of it,’’ said Owney. es Say 1” ** Hallo!” o pees you can swim?” +s O 1, yes,”’ “That's right. Well the sooner you start the bet- ter, an’ you'll strike it right at low tide.” “All right. Vl goright now. I ain't got much baggage to take with me, that’s one comfort.”’ said Owney. ‘*My motto is ‘Git thar,’ and you bet Vl do it,” * Darned if you ain’t a gritty young one,” said stretcher Bull, admiringly. ‘*Good by!’ yelled Owney, as he prepared to walk along the dark water-tunnel by which he hoped to regain liberty and upset Frank Burton's scheme, “Told »n an inute,” said Streteber Bull, “ What's the matter?” “ There’s rats down there.” “Ts that so. I ain’t seen any yet,”’ returned Owney. *“P’raps not, but you might feel’em before you git through.” **Can't help it. no rats.”’ ‘* Yes, but see here,.”’ "eur . “Tl throw you down a knife wrapped in a hand- kercher, so it won’t hurt ifiit bits yer. Are you ready ?’ ** Let her come,” responded Owney. Splash came something in the water, and Owney found himself in perder of a dirk-knife in a case wrapped in Stretcher Bull’s bandkerchief. He tied the handkerchief tightly around his waist and stuck the knife, sheath and all, in it, * Good-by,” he yelled once more to Stretcher Bull. ‘*Good-by, young one.” returned Stretcher Bull. ‘*Good-luck to you, and ! hope to row a square race with you on the 6th of July.” The next minute Owney bad passed under the arch, and | is perilous journey to death or liberty had commenced, Carefully he felt his way along. His taper had been extinguished, but he had taken the precaution to put that and bis water-tight match- box in an upper vest-pocket. For some distance he walked along in a straight line. He could barely distinguish the bricks arched ubove his head by a dim, phosp! orescent light which coubtless arose from the foulness in the sewer, The water, swiftly flowing in the direction he was going, toward the river, varied slightly indepth here and there, but never got more thansix inches higher than the three feet. Uwney had the handle of his knife ready to his grasp. but so far had not met with any enemy upon whom his safety would require bim to use it, Fortunately the sewer was well flushed, and the water moving quickly, preverted the accumulation of gases and foul odors that might have suffocated the young Oarsman Detective, and brought his career to a premature close. Strong-nerved as he was, however, he could not help thinking with borror that tony: more than one victim of lawless revenge had been thrown from the arches of the «ellar from which he had just es- caped. to float down with the water of the sewer and be afterward found in the river—a case of unknown death. He knew that the archway being open at all was a violation of city ordinances, and that it could only have been left in that state for the furtherance of criminal designs. “Tl visit that place again when I get out of this,” he muttered, ‘Ard I just want to get one plug at that red-headed bartender,” .” He had by this time reached a turn in the sewer, The slight phosphorescent illumination suddenly ceased, as he realized that at the turn the archway became much lower—so low that he had to stoop as he passed around the corner. ve attitude he was compelled fo assume brought. the water up to his ches’. and he took the taper and matches out of bis pocket as the slimy, cold torrent threatened to reach them. For some twenty yards he proceeded in this way. Then the low arch came to anend and he could once more stand up to his full hight, ; The phosphorescent light. too, returned, but the water was at least a foot higher than it had been at any time before, showing that he was slowly but steadily getting nearer to the river ; ‘ Suddenly he jumped with an exclamation of orror. I’m bound to ‘git thar,’ rats or ~~ : ‘ | % os a a -_ 7 2 . , ag, ¢*