Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 488 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

A TES FES me an hour late, and ten minutes now might be my ruin. What’s thatlight ahead? It’s the Blue Bell, for a wager! Good! I can strike a relay there, if I've an ounce of luck.” Two minutes after he drew up in frontof a roadside inn, from whose open front a clear light streamed across the road, ‘Hey, the house!” he yelled loudly, ‘* Mer- ry alive, there, my good souls. Waiter, land- lord, hostler—stir your stumps, you rascals!” This loud and energetic call brought two or three persons quickly to tho porch, ‘*Ride up here and dismount,” said one, who was evidently the landlord. ‘‘ We’llsee to your horse. It’s a wild night, and you must wanta dryin -up.” ‘No. I must on. But my horse is fagged out, and I wantarelay. Quick! I haven’t a minute to lose.” “Sorry, sir; but it can’t be done. There is nota horse in the stable, and won’t be any in for an hour. Better dismount and warm up.” ‘*Dismount the deuce! Ill go onif I have to crawl. There’s no play when I’m on business, old Boniface, and you ought to know that!” ‘“* Hillo, it?s Mr. Racket!” cried the landlord, in surprise. ‘‘ Didn’t make you out in the dark, sir. owve heard the dreadful news? About your old uncle?” ‘*' Yes, yes, impatiently. ‘“‘How he was flung into the quarry, and picked up with hardly an ounce of life left?” * Yes, es, I know it all,” was the short an- ‘swer. ‘*'There’s where ’'m bound. Trot out anything. A mule. Acow. I must goon,” ‘*Tm sorry, but there’s not a creature left in the stables. Every animal went over to the Bromly fair this afternoon.” The impatient rider flung himself from the horse and mounted the steps at a bound. ‘*Give me something hot, landlord. I’m chilled through tothe marrow. And give that horse a pint of your strongest whisky! He must goon, if he drops dead at the end. Pour it in a bucket of water, and he will takeit. Quick! No time for head-scratching now!” These energetic orders had their effect in stir- ring the people of the hotel to action. They knew Dick cket’s temper toowell to dally when hesaid go! Thedraught of whisky and water ordered for the horse was ready in a minute. The animal hesitated at the strange taste of the beverage. But the poor creature ‘was too thirsty to be particular, and after a moment began eagerly to swallow the well- primed mixture. ‘*Good for him! He takes to his whisky like an old toper. That dose ought to put another five miles run into his muscles,” declared Dick. ‘You are wet to the skin, Mr. Racket,” re- joined the landlord. ‘‘ Better take a warm- Ing.” ‘* Where’s the warmer I ordered? That's’ all Tl take this night.” ‘* Here it is.” oT Sr He handed the young man a brimming glass of hot whisky. In an instant it was off. ‘‘That’s a heavy dose, Boniface, but I’ve got therain in my bones, and must drive it out ‘with something. And now good-by.” He thrust acoin into the open palm of the landlord, and strode out to the horse-block. The weary animal already felt the effect of his po- tation. His drooping head was lifted, and he gi the sicglagd ground with his forefoot. ‘¢ Jolly lad! You’ve got the fire in your veins, ‘Runs warmer than’ blood while it lasts, but it’s @ vengeance when it gives out. Do your pret- tiest now, my beauty.” ; He patted the horse’s neck, sprung lightly to ‘the saddle, and gathered the reins. In a mo- ment the animal was away, as nimblyasif he ‘was fresh from the stable.§The splashing sound of hoofs in the soft mud, the sinking of a shadow into the darkness, and all-was gone. The host of the Blue Bell stood striving to pierce the darkness with bis sight, ‘'A wild blade that,” he muttered, shakin his head, ‘ The wildest in the country. Hard- ly an ounce of deviltry poy here in the last ve years but Dick Racket has been at the bot- tom of it. But he’s a whole-souled fellow, and Ilike him, It’s said he’s clean run through the Roepe that his old father fig eee Sei ras- cally young scapegrace! lf he has ared himeel? he ought Ee ilarve awhile to brine him to his senses. But, after ‘all, I like Scapegrace Dick, and I'll hang to him if the whole county disown him for a reprobate.” Five miles beyond the Blue Bell a long stone ‘wall bordered the roadside. Within it a grove of trees lifted their leafy heads into the k- ness, half con an old-fashioned mansion that stood somewhat back from the road. But Wild Dick Racket. ee ae the whole broad front was now bathed in gloom, and the house would have seemed de- serted but for a light that shone from a side- window, and flung a clear ray out over the water-soaked trees, The night was not old, but deep silence everywhere eergnee It seemed as if the mansion had gone to sleep but for the single eye with which it looked out into the gloomy night. A splashing sound, as of slow-moving hoofs, came from the road south of the wall. It was the solitary wayfarer, thus far advanced on his stormy quest. ** You've lost all you're spirit, old brute,” cried Dick, ‘‘ but Pll swear by corn-juice after. this, for a played-out horse. Keep it up a brace of minutes more! Hey! you caacalll That’s a jade’s trick!” The horse had stumbled and fallen. Only an agile spring from the saddle saved the rider from being flung headlong into the soft mud. ‘** Lie there and rest, old royal. You’ve done your work nobly, and that’s a soft bed for your worn-out body. I’m on the spot, thank the stars! Here’s the corner of the park wall. It’s now to get into the house, and if they keep their old watch that’s no child’s play.” He followed the wall until he waned the gate, a strong iron Open-work safeguard to the park that lay beyond. It was firmly locked. He shook it impatiently, but it failed to yield to his hand, and there seemed to be no person within hearing. All remained silent beyond. ‘Hang them for a sleepy-headed crew!” he angrily cried. ‘‘ But there’s no time to lose at the gate, while my worthy rascal of a cousin may be working his dirty schemes inside. This may be part of his game. They are not used to keep- ete tight a lock on their park gate.” ick looked along the wall It was eight feet high, and slippery with the rain that still con- tinued to fall. The openwork of the gate of- fered better footing, and his nimble fingers and feet soon enabled him to overcome the obstacle to his entrance. Like a squirrel he clambered to the top of the iron-work, and from that gained the summit of the wall. A nimble jump now brought him tothe grassy surface of the park within. ‘*So far, good. Now for the house.” It loomed darkly before him, seeming to for- bid an entrance to its gloomy precincts. He strode boldly forward. The door, a strong oaken rtal, was firmly locked, In vain he rung and nocked. No one answered, ‘* By the beard of St. Mark! it’s a conspiracy to keep me out,” he declared, ‘I dare not make too much noise, with my uncle lying half dead, or I'd teach them that Diek Racket is no baby to be played with in this fashion. But if Phil Morton fancies that he can keep me out by any such aaa gh joke, he’s got the wrong coon to deal with. Into that house I go, by hook or crook.” He made the circle of the mansion, trying every door and window. They were all firmly fastened. Dick considered a minute, and then made his way to an outhouse, which stood some distance apart from the main building, The door of this readily opened to his hand. He strode intoa room which lay before him. The faint light of a candle illuminated the place, and displayed the figure of an old man, who sat crooning over a stove in its midst. This person looked with eager inquiry at the visitor, and then sprung up with a cry of alarm. “Mr. Richard!” he cried, in terror. ‘‘ Mr, Richard! You here?” ‘** No one else, Tony. I am not a ghost, that you need lose your senses at sight of me, What ails the blazing fools at the house, that there’s no admittance?” “Fly, sir! fly! You are in dreadful danger! Fly at once! ‘You don’t know—” © ‘And won’t soon, if I trust to you, Hold your jaw, you old fool, if you have nothing bet- ter tosay. How am I to get into the house— that’s the question.” “Fly, sir! Oh, do not stay here! They are searching for you already.” ‘What in the blazes ails you, you old idiot?” Dick shook him fiercely, ‘Come back to your senses, if youcan. Is my uncle dead?” ‘‘No, no! He is almost! But they say he cannot ve 1 was flung over into the old uarry nda they say—they say—” iT They say what?” y y Say ‘‘ That it was you who flung him over! That you are his murderer! You! My dear young master! Itis not true! I know it isa lie! But, they areafter you! The police are on your track! Oh, sir, fly for your life while there is a hope! They will hang you for the murder!” 3 Dick stood lookihg at the old man with open eyes and mouth. ‘“‘ By the blessed piper, if this don’t beat Ban- nager! So, Phil Marten. this is another bit of your handiwork? Hang me if l’m a _ baby, though! Smart_as youare, I bet high I come up with you. Where is there a ladder, Tony? Into that house I must go.” ‘* Into the house? Where they all are, police and all? Oh, sir! for the love of Heaven—” ’ ea ys old man! Iam not a baby ora fool. e are wasting minutes here in prattle. If all the police in New York were there, in I would go. My uncle shall not die under Phil Morton’s blistering tongue if he calls me twenty times a murderer !” ‘* But, Mr. Richard-~-” ** A ladder, I say! <A ladder!” The old man, trembiing with terror, led the way from the room. He dare no longer trife with the determined man before him. In a few moments he pointed out a ladder, which med at the foot of a wall, half buried in grass. The muscular young man picked it upas if it bad been a feather. ‘*That will do, Tony. Get back to your den again. Let me alone to deal with them, And, don’t you fear for Dick Racket, the Scapegrace. He’s a match for his sweet cousin,” He carried the heavy burden through the rain to the foot of the house wall. Meanwhile, within the house, a striking’ scene . | was enacting. Inthe room from whose window came the gleam of light, stood several persons, gathered near a bed, on which lay stretched the form of an old man, with white hair and beard, and his countenance of a deadly pallor. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to breathe with great difficulty. Of the persons present one was a tall, slender, neatly-dressed yowng man, with a slim, color- less face, and thin, white 86 There was some- thing sinister in the look of his gray eyes, and in the settled lines that hung about his mouth. Yet there was a look of deep concern and sor- row on his face, as if he keenly felt the state of the old man. There were three other persons. Oneof them was evidently the doctor. He held the wrist of the invalid, and consulted his watch as he felt for the flagging pulse. The remaining two seemed officials, from their dress and general appearance. . ‘** What have you to say, doctor?” asked the young man, gine 5 ‘My poor old: uncle! Can you give me any hope?” ‘*T fear not, Mr. Morton. Try and compose yourself, sir. T dread the result.” The young man turned away and drew his hand éiross tits eyes. ' ‘‘T cannot bear to think of it. Such a noble man as he was. And such a benefactor to me! To be done to death by the hand of a murderer! And my own cousin, his own nephew, To think of it! But the tie of relationship shall not stand in my way, when justice calls for a victim. Murder must be avenged!” ‘‘ His haunts are known, Mr. Morton. Orders are already issued, He will be our prisoner be- fore morning,” answered one of the officials. “ The finding of that wig wasa wonderful chance, It settles the question of murder beyond a doubt. Richard Racket is the man. JTIl swear to that!” “ And Plu swear you lie like a thief !” This deep, indignant voice drew all eyes to the door of the room. There stood the man in uestion, splashed with mud from head to foot, drivoine with rain, his cap drawn down low over his forehead, but his keen eves flashing out like two stars on the surprised group. CHAPTER III, A BROKEN REVELATION. THERE was an interesting tableau in the room of the hurt invalid., In the doorway stood Dick, soaked with rain, mud-splashed, but looking six inches taller in the indignation that burnt in his eyes, and curled his scornful lips, Opposite stood his scheming cousin, the very picture of dismay and consternation. The doctor had dropped the pulse of his pa~ tient, and stood beside the officers, full of sur- prise at the interruption. ‘So this is your game, eh, my sweet cousin?” - eried Dick again, with sneering indignation. ‘““Youwre working your schemes to lay job on me? Want'to keep me from my uncle’s ear, do you, you foul-mou thed reprobate? Got the police atten oe! Semper I am, and I don’t care a fig for the police! ; ou?” exclaim~<~« with a ‘‘ Richard Racket! is it indeed ed the cousin, holding up his ‘ 7 v comic er rh