Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 513 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

— N,N “What can it mean?” he asked himself a score of times through the day, as the steel bars, like red-hot tovgues, protruded from the jaws of the iron mon- sters that were chewing them into a merchantable commodity. He was utterly unable to answer his own question, and he knew it was of no use asking his helper, Mike Carroll, for that worthy was not tr roubling him self about anything beyond getting through his day’s work, with the prospect of a glass of beer at the end of it. Barney Driver was not popular with the men in the Star Steel Works. He was gruff in manner, and there were strange tales afloat concerning him. It was said that he dabbled in chemistry and that he believed in spiritualism»and clairvoyance. He had himself boasted one day that he bad killed his man, and he had a peculiar swagger which his enemies declared he cael only have acquired in a peniten- tiary. Still, he was a big, powerful man, and he forced a sort of negative respect from his associates. There was another whisper about Barney Driver, however, that was, in the estimation of his fellow- workmen, more serious than any other imputation that could be cast upon him. He was said to secretly advocate non union prin- ciples. Though perforce a member of the ‘t Aamal- amated Association of Lron and St:el Workers,” oman he could not have otherwise worked in a Pittsburg mill, it was claimed that his record was a shady one, and that he only waited a fair opportu- nity to betray bis fellow-workmen, Out of his hear- ing he was almost invariably spoken of as ‘* Barney, the Blacksheep.”’ In.a large factory like the Star Mill there were necessarily many types of character among the em- ployees. They were not all Barney Drivers. One young fellow who worked not far from Bar- mey, and who was the very opposite in disposition and appearance, was named Lawrence Sinclair, ‘Sinclair was tall, lithe and graceful, with a world of strength in his sinewy limbs, and with courage enough to use his strength in defense either of him- self ora friend. if need be. Straight, regular feat- ures, piercing blue eyes, and short, blonde curls clustering on his high forehead bespoke one of nature’s noblemen, even through the soot and grime gathered in the course of a day’s werk in the mill, Everybody liked Lawrence Sinclair, There -was an openness, a rough-and- “ready good nature ee the young fellow that irresistibly attracted pe a to him, and there were few men in the Star Mill who would not have stood by him to the last drop of blood. There was one person, however, whom Lawrence Sinclair cordially disliked—Barney Driver. Not without cause, either. There were good reasons for the feeling. What these reasons were may appear later on. Lawrence Sinclair had witnessed the episode of the hammer, and had admired the promptitude with which the pale-faced boy had interfered to pre- vent bloodshed. ‘You have lots of Diack, young one,” said Sin- clair, as the lad walked past ‘* Have I?’ was the cool rejoinder. *That’s what. Don’t you know Barney Driver is a bad man?” “* He is not bad enough to hurt me. I don’t fear him, and he knows it.’ + Have you met him before?’’ ee.” **Where?”’ ‘Tend to your own affairs, Sinclair,’ interposed “the gruff voice of “ Barney, the Blacksheep,” at this juncture. ‘The nee is an old friend of mine, or I would not have let him stop me from licking that fellow. You ought to have guessd that.” Sinclair did not reply, but he exchanged a look with Barney Driver, as the lattcr returned to his work, that meant trouble in the future. 2 All right, Trenton,” said Sinclair. ‘i dele ul let me see you at quitting time. o talk to you.” y a S othe boy “quietly resumed his labors and Sinclair walked away. All day the business of the mill went on, and at six o’clock the men on the day turn gave up their places to those who were to keep the insatiate jaws of the rolls occupied through the night. Frank Trenton felt weary as he stepped over to the long trough where the day men, each with his own towel thrown over his shoulder, were scouring some of the marks of their day’s labor from face, neck and hands. * Well, young one, how do dine feel now?’ asked the cheery voice of apie oe inclair, as he splashed into the water in the trough and sluiced imself from the crown of his bead to the middle of the chest, regardless of his wet shirt. “How do you like working in the Star Mill? Frank Trenton removed the black from his face and hands as well as he could, and looking up into the face of his friend. replied with a faint Smile: **Lam rather tired.” ‘Dare say you are. It’s hard work when you are not used to it, particularly to a little chap like you, Where are you boarding?” ‘*Go to your I want ‘*T haven’t got a boarding-house yet. Ionly came to Pittsburg, t morning. - “That so? Then come home with me. My mother “7 & room that will just suit you. It isn’t very big, but then—you are not very big either. I’ve _ kind of taken a liking to you, and I don’t want to see you get in with thegang here. I am afraid they are rather too rouan for you.” Ten minutes later, Lawrence Sinclair and Frank Trenton were standing in the parlor of the former’s house, while & motherly woman, the Widow Sin- =a | The » Demon Doctor. clair, was telling her son’s new friend that he was heartily welcome, and that she would try to make him as comfortable as possible. ‘Then let’s have supper, mother. That’s the first thing,”’ said Lawrence, heartily. “Frank is pretty well played out by his first day’s work in the mill.” ‘* Begorra, yes, an’ it’s meself that’s played out too, wid running after him,’* broke in the voice of Mike Carroll, as the Irishman a; peared in the door- way. ‘“‘ Barney Driver wants to sp’ake wid ye, an’ he towld me to ask ye to goout beyant, me little lad. An’ it’s hurryin’ ye’d better be, too. for Barney isn’t in the best of timpers, d’ye moind.” Lawrence broke forth with a sudden invective. ‘* Lawrence,” said his mother in warning tones. * Yes, mother, I beg your pardon; but that man makes me so mad with his domineering ways that I can hardly help breaking out sometimes,’ returned Lawrence. ‘“Where is he?’ asked Frank Trenton of Mike Carroll. ‘‘Down the road a piece,”’ was the reply. “T'll take ye to him in a pig’s whisper if you’re ready,” said Mike. ‘*Come on, then!’’ said Frank, and before Law- rence or his mother could say a- word in remon- strance, he was gone, closely followed by Mike. ‘“* What does this mean!” said Mrs. Sinclair. ‘** Who is this boy?”’ ‘I don't know, mother. There is some mystery about it, and Lintend to find out whatitis. That per. is too young and innocent to be a friend of Barney the Blacksheep, and if there is any foul arg in the matter, I'll make it hot for that big vil- in as sure as my name is Lawrence Sinclair.”’ Mrs. Sinclair walked to the window, but all was darkness outside. She stood looking out into the night, however, for two or three minutes, while her son dropped into a chair with an air of weariness. ** Curse you!” rung out the deep voice of Barney Driver. ‘I'll finish you, this time!” Lawrence Sinclair s rung to his feet. **Look, Lawrence!’’ cried Mrs, Sinclair, excitedly. ‘Come to the window, quick /” Her son rushed to the window and looked out, while his ‘frame at with excitement at the sight that met his gaz A bright light fjatained the hitherto pitch-dark road, and shone full on the figure of Barney Driver, half-recumbent in the dust, while Frank Trenton bent over him, grasping his wrist and apparently whispering in his ear. On the face of Barney was a look of horror, as if he were under some supernatural influence. Even as they looked, the light suddenly disap- eared, and the next minute Frank Trenton burst into the room, pale and breathless, and sunk on the floor in a deadly faint. CHAPTER ITI. THE PLOT THICKENS, Iw a lonely house that stood a hollow near the crest of the g-rantic cliff, four hundred feet high overlooking t seething city of Pittsburg, an known as Mount Washington, wasa man, sitting in a dimly-lighted room. Save for the shaded lamp, ai light fell only on an outspread parchment on the table, which he was earnestly perusing, there was nothing to relieve the almost tomb-like darkness of the apartment. It was about two hours after the events narrated in the last chapter. The reader kept his eyes fastened on his paper resting his forehead in his two hands, and seeme almos entirely absorbed by the queer characters of his manuscript. With a deep sigh he raised his head, so that his features were revealed in the light of the lamp. It was the Demon Doctor! At the first glance one can see that he isastudent. His high, pale forehead, from which is pushed back a clustering mass of white hair: his dark. thoughtful eyes, flashing like coals of fire in cavernous recesses beneath heavy eyebrows, and his pensive but firm mouth, the outlines of which are not concealed by the mustache that droops on each side to mingle with the flowing beard. “Strange,” mutters the Demon Doctor, “very strange.” He rises from his seat and paces the room, which, as one becomes accustomed to the dimness, is seen to be stored with books, manuscripts, oddly-shaped instruments of brass, leather, wood and glass—the latter substance being distorted into oy conceiva- ble form in vials, retorts, alembics, and the thou- sand-and-one vessels used bv chemists. A galvanic battery stands on a small table in a corner, while a human skeleton grins from a closet, the curtain in front of which has been accidentally ushed aside. A stuffed crocodile hangs from the ceiling, showing that the occupant of the room has that delight in oddities which was so characteristic of the search- rin hin the unknowable in long dead-and-gone cen- turies He is a man of almost gigantic stature. When he stands up to his full hight he is at least six feet eight inches in hight, with a broad, sturdy frame, elgh looks capable of ‘withstanding the assaults of two ab eres it “ Strange!’ he repeats, as he paces slowly to and fro, ‘“ With all my study, extending over my whole life, of the mystic forces of nature, I am still obliged to employ a boy whose life I could crush out in my hand, as I would an eggsbell. to assist me in run- ning down a vulgar thief! My erudition, which I have burned my brain for years to acquire, does not ee me in axe ee on aman whom! more n Suspect of be e trator. Strange— strange!’ io ES SL LA essen SS LL He walked up and down for several minutes, cogi- tating deeply. ** Father!’ A sweet voice that of a young girl. It made the Doctor start, while a smile of affection drove the preoccupied look from his face. The door ha* opened, and the girl stood in the shadows in a distant corner, in a hesitating man- ner, as if she were afraid of chtrnding on the studies of her father. “Come in, Lucette. Lam not busy. Comein, my daugbhter,”’ said the Demon Doctor, as he stepped toward the young girl, took her by the hand and kissed her, *‘‘Iam expecting that boy th's evening who is helping me to get back your mother’s jewels, A bright boy he is, too, but a mere boy physically. If I had not happened to be on the river last night, Iam afraid he would have found a grave at the t- tom of the Monongahela, then.’ ‘How good youare, father! You always seem to be in the right place at the right time,” said the girl, with an admiring glance at. her father’s face. ‘Good! laughed the Demon Doctor. ‘ Well, I don’t know. I should have been very bad if I had not put out my hand to save a helpless boy from a terrible death. Don’ t you think so, dear?”’ ‘* Listen, father.” ‘What do you hear?” The young girl was looking through a window that, entirely unshaded, showed that the darkness with- out was of inky blackness. ‘T thought I heard a light tap at the window.” said Lucette, straining her eyes in the endeavor to penetrate the thick pall of night outside. Tap, tap, tap! The gir ‘was right. There was somebody outside, signaling the inmates of the room. ‘We'll soon see who it is, daughter,” said the Demon Doctor, as he stepped to a corner of the room and placed his ‘hand against the wall. Instantly a powerful blue reflection shone over the hitherto black space outside the window and clearly defined every object. A clear space of perhaps fifty feet extended from the window to a high, cinderous bank that shut off the view entirely on that side. In the bank. to the right, was a hole, about four feet square, leading appayently into the bowels of the eart he space between the house and the bank was rough and uneven, with huge masses of slate and rock lying. here and there, the whole scene bein suggestive of former activity, when coal was min to the extent of hundreds of tons daily, and sent to feed the home fires and manufacturing furnaces of towns and cities in every part of the continent. But this activity had long since ceased. and the hole in the bank was now only one of the many means Of ingress and egress to the resort of lawless characters who found the disused coal mines of — Washington a comparatively safe hiding- ace “TIT do not see anybody, father,”’ said Lucette, as she looked through the window in all directions, ‘*but I am sure [ heard some one ta The Demon Doctor smiled gri y. as he walked to the side of his daughter and placed his foot on a certain bright red flower that stood forth conspicu- ously in the nearly obliterated pattern of the well- worn carpet, A howlL of pe arose from the outside, as a man jumped up from beneath the window and stood with a ludicrous expression of dismay on his face. looking at Lucette and her father. ‘* Electricity is a ve Bag le" thing—eh, Lucette?’ said the Demon Do ‘Goto your room, my dear. I must talk to this man alone.”’ Lucette eee obeyed her father and retired, aa he opened the window, and motioned to the visitor to come in. The latter, without a word, om through the opening. and sat down in the Doctor’s chair where the light from the student lamp shone full ee his face and showed the sullen features of Barney river. The Demon Doctor pressed the wall in the corner, and the blue light disappeared leaving the darkness outside as bl as before. ‘* Well, professor,’ said Barney, *‘I am here, as } told you I would be, and I want you to come right down to business. And I may as well tell you that I mean to claim damages from you for assaulting me last night on the river, when I was attending strictly to my own business, and — enjoying 4 little fishing. You scared me nearly to death, too, You are always playing those sort of tricks Hanged if I don’t believe you ave a demon any. how. The Demon Doctor smiled conteaaeen: “TIT am nothing more than a student of natural forces, and when I show the peowte that electricity — give them powers beyon ything dreamed of y writers of fairy tales, they shake their beads in holy horror, and call me a demon or a crank,” e Demon Doctor spoke musingly, and evidently was only thinking aloud. Barney Driver wriggled ws garg ph in his chair. * Well, never mind about that,” he said. “Let us get down to business,” ““T am listening.” ““You know I told you some time ago that I had a secret which T woul sell to you at a reasonable rate —a secret about—”’ ** About my daughter! Well?” ‘“ Your daughter, eh?"' repeated Barney. with a coarse laugh. “‘ Well, yes, all right; if you like to call her your daughter, I don't object, of course. She certainly ain’t my daughter. ” There was @ dangerous gleam in the aoe Doctor’s dark eyes for a second, but Barney d see it, as he continued: a _— ~ cry om — DT agin dD Ss =a