Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 488 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER VI. THE LIBRARY AND ITS WARDER. Two days have passed since the date of the events last narrated. Dick Racket, the fugi- tive is still at large, though the authorities have made a diligent search for him. It was night again, dark and starless, <A sharp frost had burdened the road along which Dick had taken his rough ride. Around Beech- croft, Mr, Wilmot’s mansion, all was deathly still. The old man was still hanging between life and death, and the house had the stillness and gloominess of a vault. He had not spoken or moved since Dick’s voice had called him back for a minute’s space to life. In the outbuilding back of the house sat old Tony, cowering over his fire. He was not alone, however, but was accompanied by Jerry, the servant who had given Dick the warning. The two old men were engaged in a crooning conversation. ‘* He suspects me,” said Jerry. ‘‘ He has made inquiries about who had old Hickory from his stall that night. He suspects me.” ‘*Let him,” answered ROBY “Td give my life for Master Richard. Let him. He can only discharge you. That needn’t hurt a spry young chap like you much.” ‘* Young!” laughed Jerry. ‘‘ And me turned three-score. I’m nota baby, at least. But it’s a dreadful business, Tony. Id stake my hand on Master Richard’s innocence. Wherever can he be? The police are all at fault.” ‘*Let him alone for that,” and old Tony rubbed his hands gleefully over the stove. ‘* Master Richard’s far too much for ’em.” **1 hope so. But he’s wild and reckless, and they’re wary and foxy. I dread ‘he'll be putting his head into their noose. I dread it sorely.” ‘*Not much, old lad. I ain’t quite the fool you're buying me for,” At this unexpected voice the two old cronies sprung to their feet witha cry of alarm. Tony so hastily that he nearly fell over the stove. ‘It’s not a warlock, old friends, It’s only Dick Racket, your loose-footed boy.” The speaker, who had stood till now in the doorway, walked forward, and displayed Dick’s sturdy figure and open, handsome face, What brings you here?” cried Jerry, half- angrily, his hands extended as if to repel the intruder. ‘* Fly, you foolish man! You are ir peril here every minute,” ‘** Notso much, old fellow.” Dick coolly seated himself. ‘They don’t look for the fox in the dog kennel. Keep your scare to yourself, Jerry, Wildeap Dick isn’t such a fool as you fancy. Come, now, I want to know the lay of the land.” ‘‘Suppose.Mr, Morton should come in here?” and Jerry trembled. ‘‘He’s forever spying around,” . ‘Tt might be in the door and out the window, then. So he is on the ground, eh? He has taken possession ?” “Yes, sir. And a hard master he promises to be!” “Tf all works well he'll not be master long.” Dick’s lips closed with a decided movement. **But your old master, Jerry! My poor old uncle?” Jerry shook his head disconsolately. ““Nochange. Nochange. I fear he will never open eyes or mouth again.” ‘* And they accuse me of his murder! And a sweet train they've laid against me! But time cures many thin old man. Amos Wilmot was a hard man. ie has done me many wrongs, But it’s no time to remember them now, when he’s lying there the victim of a foul trick.” “T know it all, sir. You're quite right. If you had justice. Butthat’snot to the point now, when the air is full of danger. Mr. Wilmot is not dead yet, thank Heaven. He may live todo his duty by his brother’s son. But you will not stay here, Master Richard?” . No.” ‘* And you will go quickly?” | “Just so. Into the house. You must open the door for me, Jerry. ** Into the house?” The trembling old man held up his hands in horror. ‘‘ You never mean it, sir? There are officers there this minute!” ‘“‘A fig for them, J have an errand in the li- brary. ‘You must lead me there on the sly, and ee the coast clear, I shall not be long.’ erry would have attempted some further remonstrance, but he knew the temper of the young spendthrift too well to try it. He rose with a groan of distress. ‘You needn’t come if you're afraid, old fel- low,” said Dick, kindly. ‘‘ Let me inside the door and leave me make my OWn way, Trust me to hoe my track.” ' . tot Tian mT ; LLL LLL LLL LL Wild Dick Racket. ——— — ‘* ‘You are not to be trusted,”.declared the old man, resolutely. ‘‘Come. If you must go I will not desert my old master’s son.” ward the house rear, was Visible. | They moved through the dark of the yard to- | I All was still. Nota light | The old man’s hand trembled as | he laid it on the door, which he had butrecently | left unfastened behind him, In a moment it was opened and shut, were in a passage of midnight gloom. ‘* Give me your hand, Jerry. You know the way in the dark, Lead me toward the li- brary.” Beechcroft was an old fashioned, rambling They structure, with no end of ins and outs, wings | and corners, and wandering ways and passages. Dick knew it well, as years of his younger life had been spent in it, yet he was not quite pre- pared to trust himself in the thick darkness that now hung over if. ‘‘ Hadn’t we best strike a light?” ‘No, no,” cried Jerry, hurriedly, ‘“‘I know the way, every inch. Come very quietly, Mas- ter Richard. This house has ears.” He caught Dick’s hand and led cautiously on- ward, treading as if shod with feathers, and seeming as if half afraid to breathe. The way seemed endless. Up and down steps, through long passages, and around corners, with not a ray of light to break the utter darkness of the situation. ** Hang it, old lad, this is Robin Hood’s barn with a vengeance. I never thought the old house was quite so crazy.” “Hush! Weare at the spot now, Thisis the library.” ‘* Faith, all cats are of one color in the dark. Strike a light, Jerry. I have a little job to do here that needs a glim. Won't be long, so don't get nervous,” | Jerry struck a match,.and lit a lamp that stood on a table in the center of the room, The light revealed a broad, spacious room, sur- rounded on three sides with bookcases, well filed with volumes. It had also many cosey nooks and easy-chairs, and seemed a comfort- able place to spend a winter’s day, ‘*' There is my uncle’s favorite chair,” said Dick, looking eagerly around him, ‘ Here is where my father loved to sit. And many a boyish hour have I spent on that stool in the window nook, buried in a fairy tale. Hallo! Jerry, are you going to leave me in the dark again?” The old man had turned down the light very low. ‘The light was too strong,” declared Jerry. ‘* Tt is dangerous here, for you and me both,” ‘*Then you slide, and only one will be in danger. Go, old fellow! I will manage my own game now, and don’t want to get you into trouble,” The old man was willing enough to take this advice, He hastened from the room, leaving Dick alone in its center. He ‘stood for several minutes, looking around him with eyes that were full of old recollec- tions. ‘Ah! if I could have those boyish days over again,” he said with a sigh. ‘‘I have never been so happy since, in all my wild frolics, But a lost hope never comes back, I’ve played the fool, and have got to reap the fool’s harvest. Well, well, it’s babyish to cry over spilt milk, Here I am in the lion’s den. Old Jerry’s right. It’s no place to stand dreaming. Now for the brown-back Shakespeare.” It looked as if it might be a hard task to find any particular volume in such a maze of books, but Dick luckily was well acquainted with the ways of the library, and knew almost where to lay his hand on the work in question. hakespeare had apparently been a favorite author, It was there in a half-dozen different forms and bindings, But there was only one edition that seemed to answer to his uncle’s words, This was in several large volumes, bound in a brownish leather, well worn, and apparently very old and valuable. Dick, after inspecting the others in their spruce new dresses, took down a volume of this venerable edition, , ‘‘Old reliable,” he said, ‘I remember the work. It’s about two centuries old, and worth a cog faym. Now for the hump-backed Rich- ard, He hastily hunted through the index for the play in question. Finding it, he turned over the antiquated leaves, with their black-letter print, and with the rusty smell of age arising from them, A few minutes sufficed for him to go through it all, There was nothing there, A Took of disap- pointment came upon his face, ‘had held the book in front of his breast, @ ‘‘ Am I sold after all? Ob, if my uncle bad only been able to finish hissentence. It may besome clew in the words of the play. It may be— Could I have mis-ed anything?’ He returned to the front of the play and went over it again leaf by leaf, with great care. At the beginning of the third act one of the leaves seemed unusually thick. He examined it more closely, and found that it was really two leaves, fastened together. A throb of hope pulsed in Dick’s veins. in an instant he had his penknife in his hand, and was separating the leaves, which were lightly glued at their edges, As he did so a folded paper fell from between them to the floor. ‘*Kureka!” he cried, with heedless loudness, ‘*T have read the riddle. Lamon the track at last,” He stooped and snatched up the important document. While he stood thus, the heavy book in one hand, the new-discovered paper in the other, he heard a sudden sound behind him, Ere he could turn it was followed by a loud out- cry: “Thief! Murderer! Midnight Stand, on your life, or you are a dead man Dick hastily turned. There stood his worthy cousin, with pale face and glaring eyes, a revol- ver in his band, pointed with what seemed a deadly aim at the head of the intruder. ‘* Not a motion! Not a step, or I send this bullet through your brain!” he cried, in a tone of triumph. ‘t You have had your day, Dick Racket. It is my turn now. But I never thought you would add midnight burglary to your other dark deeds. Drop that paper you have stolen, and yield yourself my prisoner.” Dick stood and looked at the speaker, a shade of amusement mingled with the vexation in his eye. He madea quick movement asif to put the document in his pocket, but there came an ominous click of the pistol-lock, ‘* Hold there, or I will shoot you as I would a dog!” Phil’s voice showed that he meant it. “I have the whip hand now, my lively cousin, You go from here toa prison, to be tried for the double crime of burglary and murder. Seat yourself in that chair; drop that stolen paper; throw up your hands, or by Heaven—” ‘Dry up, you blustering fool!” cried Dick scornfully. ‘‘ It’s not the first time Pve looked into the muzzle of a pistol, Phil. ‘You can save your blather, for you haven’t the heart to shoot at a fly.” ‘* Haven’t I?” his lips were white with rage. There came a flash and quick report. Whether purposely, or through excitement, he had pulled the trigger. Dick staggered back asif he had been struck. But fortunately at that riggs he nto that the bullet had buried: itself, directly over his heart! ‘‘A miss is as good asa mile!” he exclaimed, recovering, and flinging the heavy volume at the head of his assailant. It took Phil full in the why eae and down he went as if he had been shot. Dick made a hasty spring forward toward the library door. But he suddenly checked himself and fell back, with his hands thrown up in ter- ror, and his eyes fixed as upon a specter. His foe, who had instantly sprung again to his feet, also stood transfixed with horror. For there before them the chair of h‘s uncle, a minute before empty, was now occupied by a deathlike figure, with snow-white hair, and a face of spectral pallor. On the moveless coun- tenance was a look of angry reproach. The thin hand was uplifted and seemed pointing indig- nantly at the door, ‘‘ He is dead! dead! It ishis ghost!” screamed Phil in terror, as he broke with blind horror for the outer passage. ‘¢ The ghost of uncle Wilmot! And back amon his books!” cried Dick, little less scared, and fol- lowing his cousin in his hasty flight. In an instant they were in the darkness of the plunderer! )”? outer hall. The door swung to, Tae spectral figure of the murdered man had driven all intru- ders from his favorite room, and taken posses- sion from the grave. There was a wild rush forward. Phil was | heard plunging headlong down a flight of stairs, his pistol again exploding in the fall, Dick, startled as he had been, could not help a burst of bitter laughter, as he heard this pro- miscuous tumble. With more caution he sought an avenue of escape. And it was none too soon. The whole house was awake, He crouched ina side room asa light approached. It was a half-dressed police- man hurrying forward toward the locality of ‘By thunder and lightning!” he groaned, | the pistol-shots. . cor cbool