Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 513 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

) ' | The Demon Doctor. mal remained stiffened in the attitude he had > ee enttrely ceasing belligerent demonstra- ions. ‘*Poor fellow!’ said Barney, soothingly. ‘ Poor fellow! You don’t want to jump on me, after all, aio you?” he dog wagged his tail feebly, while his eyes fol- lowed Barney Driver’s every movement. The latter chuckled softly, as he took a paper bag from his pocket and opened it. * You bet. [ haven't owned a hundred dogs in my life without knowing how to cool them off,’’ he mut- tered. ‘That little wave of the hand, with some- thing in it that dogs can never resist, has saved me from a mangling more than once.,”’ He took from the paper a piece of meat and gave it to the dog, who devoured it greedily. “Good, old fellow, eh?” said Barney, as he coolly turned away and walked toward the house, He knew that there was enough poison in the meat to killthe animal within a few minutes, and he did not care to stay and watch his dying agonies. “I never could bear to see animals suffer, any- how,” he said to himself. “‘I’d rather see a man poisoned, any day; but I’m obliged to do this in the way of business. ‘*Yes, they look very comfortable in there,’ he said, ten minutes later, as he stoo:! on the lawn look- ing through a window into the library of the man he intended to rob. It was a large, handsomely-furnished room, with a book-case on one side of the room, and a bright fire throwing a cheerful glow over the rich uphol- stered chairs ancl sofas scattered carelessly around. Ina large easy-chair,in front of the fire, sat an elderly, gentlemanly-looking man, while at his feet two kittens gamboled on the hearth-rug. Barney Driver noted all this at the first glance. But something elise engaged his attention more particularly—something that ws the goal of the expedition in which he was about to risk his life perhaps. It was aniron vault, built into the wall, and se- cured witha time-lock as well as by an ordinary safe letter-lock. The blind at the window had been pulled down, but there was a gap at the side through which Bar- ney had 2 full view of the room and its contents. he moon had gone down, and it was quite dark on the lawn outside the house, Even if there should be any one else in the grounds they would not be likely to see Barney Dri- ver, as he stood close in the shadow of the build- ing. The gentleman inside sat at the table in his easy- chair, intent on his papers, which he was reading and from which he oceasionally made entries in a large strongly bound account book. He was evidently making up, in the privacy of his own home, for time lost in the day, or else was compelled to work after hours to keep even with his regular task. He was one of the largest stockholders in the bank, being practically its owner, as well as cashier, and could therefore arrange his hours of work, to a large extent, to suit himself, Utterly unconscious of the lurking desperado, out- side the window, the gentleman leisurely turned over his papers and noted figures in the big book. The room was a picture of quiet comfort. ‘* Now that vault has got to be fixed somehow be- fore the old man goes to bed. If he sets that time- lock himself, it will be a deuce of a job to get it open, because he will put ic for eight or nine o’clock in the morning, sure, and I want to get into it not later than one.’’ muttered Barney. “If I had known there was a time-lock on it I would have had it attended to before.” He knitted his brows as he tried to decide in what way he should overcome this obstacle in the way of the robbery he contemplated. ‘*The old man probably opens that door at the same time every morning. These bank fellows al- ways work on a system, like clocks. I know them.” Barney stopped to chuckle, as if he had treated himself to a rather neat joke, ‘7 know them like a book. I have had dealings with banks before.” | He chuckled again. The joke was really very rich. ; : Then he resumed his observations of the interior of the room and tried to think out a plan for the ac- complishment of his intentions. “T must get at that time-lock, and quickly, too, or the old rooster will close the door and T shall have several hours’ dangerous work to get it open.” The vault door was ee pre though from where he stood, Barney could not see inside. The door of the room, leading as he knew, into the hall, was within two feet of the vault, “If 1 could open that door @ few inches, I believe T could slip through and into the vault without the old fellow seeing me,” muttered Barney. He saw that the cashier, as he st in his easy- chair, intent upon his papers, had his back toward the vault. If the room door could be opened sileatly, how easy it would be to slip into the vault and turn the hands of the time-lock so that the door would swin open Ss midnight instead of eight o'clock in the moraing “I'll try it,” said Barney, desperately, ‘‘ and if the worst comes, why—” He did not finish the sentence, but drew from a sheath hidden under his coat, a long, gleaming knife, and touched its sharp point significantly. He replaced the knife. and fakin from an inside pocket a pair of light rubber overs them on over the shoes he wore, | | | oes, quickly put | “Now, I am ready; and, Mr. Bank Cashier, look out for me, because I am coming.”’ He tried the window softly. ‘By Jupiter! The window is unfastened. That’s funny. [could slide in this way if I didn’t think the other was the safest.” He stole around the house, carefully making not arustle among the ye shrubbery that arose in clumps in a ghostly fashion here and there. A flight of stone steps led up to the main door of the mansion, while a veranda extended along the whole front. To run lightly up the steps and stand on the ve- randa was the work of a moment. The room in which sat the owner was in the cor- ner of the mansicn, and had another window look- ing on the veranda. This window, however, was closely shuttered. “If I'd been him, I’d have fastened the other window, too. But of course he knows his own busi- ness,’’ chuckled Barney Driver, as he tried the ae door and found it fastened with lock and bolts. He looked carefully up and down the veranda and as far into the grounds as he could. Nothing was to be seen save the tall trees stand- ing sentinel-like here and there and the shrubbery and grass nestling at his feet around the house. “It must be about eleven o'clock,” he thought, ‘and I suppose Curly and Oscar are waiting for me with the boat. If I don’t hurry this job will slip through, sure, I’ve got to fix the vault, then get back to tell Curly, and then come back here with him and work the vault for that money, unless the get eeew should kave left it where I can pick it up easily.’’ He produced from one of his capacious pockets three or four skeleton keys on a small iron ring, and examined them, as he pursued his reflections: ‘*A hundred thousand dollars, eh? That, with my other stuff, will fix me for life. In that iron box in the small safe in the right--and corner at the back of the vault. ‘Um!” _ He selected one of the skeleton keys and placed it in the lock, One wrench, and the lock was over- come, ‘**So far, so good. Now for the bolts.” He pocketed the skeleton keys and drew out a steel instrument, which he applied to the bolt through the crack of the door, A dextrous movement and the big door was open. He stepped swiftly inside, closed the door and dropped ou his knees behind the hat-rack while he made np his mind as to his next heer ogg } ‘*No fear of that money being left out. It will be in the iron box. in its regular place. But that won’t trouble me much if I can get the time-lock in good shape,”’ he said to himself. ‘* Well, every and seems quiet here. I guess it’s safe to go ahead.,”’ He crawled out from his hiding-place and turned out the oil lamp that threw a feeble glimmer over the hall. Then he walked on tip-toe to the door of the room in which the cashier sat, wholly unconscious of danger. The servants had all gone to bed, in another part of the house, and the old gentleman was just finish- ing up some complicated accounts before he, too, retired for the night. With practiced hand, Barney Driver noiselessly turned the handle of the door. The old gentleman calmly worked on. Barney pushed the door open a little way and looked through the chink into the room. Still wider went the door, and Barney Driver was inside the room, Still the cashier, bending over his papers, was utterly unaware that he was not alone, save for the kittens sleeping at his feet. Another moment and Barney was in the vault. He looked around searchingly for the iron box in which was deposited the large sum that he knew was in the house, but it was not to be seen. It was safely locked in the strong small safe let into che stonework of the vault. in the corner. ‘* Now for the time lock!” The small clock-dial, by which the lock of the vault was so regulated that the door would swing open at the exact time marked, faced Barney on the inside of the heavy door. The hands pointed to ten minutes past eight. At that hour in the morning the door would open of itself after being closed by its spring-lock the night before. At least the lock would fly back, though the door could not actually open until the regular safe letter-lock combination had been turned by some one knowing the set of letters to be applied, ‘‘Ten minutes past eight,’’ muttered Barney. “A little too late to suit me. I'll just take the liberty of putting your clock back, Mr. Cashier.”’ He moved the hands until the clock-face showed half-past twelve. “There, that’s all right. The old man will never look at the clock. He knows it’s set at ten minutes past eight, and he'll just shut the door as usual, when he goes to bed.”’ : BM es thinking, Barney Driver prepared to make S exit. Softly he stole from behind the door of the vault. The cashier was sitting back in his chair, looking dreamily at the fire. He had finished his work for the night, and was enjoying a few minutes of quiet before retiring. Barney Driver nodded his head with satisfaction Se stepped across the space between the two rs, His foot caught in a rug and he fell forward against the door of the room with a loud erash. The cashier started to bis feet, and seizing a heavy eae paper-weight, Burled it with all his force at rney Driver's head. The latter ducked, and the paper-weight struck the door. The next instant. Barney had the old man by the throat and was holding him down on the ne pete while he felt in his pocket for a small piece of wood, with two pieces of string attached, with which he intended to gag his victim. Barney Driver did not believe in murder, except as & last resort. ‘“*Say a word and I'll bury my knife in your heart,” he hissed in the cashier’s ear. The old gentleman struggled violently, but Barney Driver’s strength was much more than a match for his own, and he was giving himself up, when a flash of intensely powerful light made the lamp in the room look dim by comparison, and Barney was lee from the prostrate form of the cashier and urled with resistless force to the-other side of the room. Barney gave a howl of dismay and horror as he saw the Demon Doctor stop to assist the cashier to his feet, and then, without stopping to wonder how this mysterious being had arrived so opportunely, the would-be burglar dashed from the house at the top of his speed. CHAPTER X. A CLIMB AND A SLIP. WE must now return to Lawrence Sinclair and Mike Carroll, whom we left in the dark hole under the room in the mine in which Barney Driver had imprisoned Lucette. ‘Be gob! Mr. Sunclair. We are all alone here, an’ be the powers, it’s darker than purgatory. Haven't ye got a match?” ‘Not one, Mike. We must get out of here without a light, if we get out at all.” ‘*Widout a loight. Yis, an’ widout a loife, too, I’m a-thinkin’, unless we git out in a gintlemanly way pretty soon. Sure ye'll not be a shtayin’ in here longer than ye kin help, 1 should think, wid yer swateheart in throuble, a-askin’ for yez, wull yez, Mr. Sunclair?”’ Lawrence clinched his hands as he thought of Lucette in the power of Barney Driver, and replied: ‘No, Mike. By heavens! we «il get out of this, and quickly. too. We must find some means to reach that trap.”’ * Tt’s pretty hoigh,” said Mike. > It is pretty high,’ acquiesced Lawrence Sin: clair. ‘*‘Ow!"* grunted Mike, as he tumbled over a heap of rubbish and grazed his nose on a piece of broken slate. ‘* What’s the trouble, Mike?” ‘Och, nothin’. Sure a mon must —— to fall over himself in a murtherin’ place loike this,” grumbled Mike. ‘“*Say, Mike.” * Well?” “T have it.” ‘You have? Then I wish yez ’u’d give it to me.” *] have hit on a way to get at that trap.” ‘* What is it?” grunted Mike, who was cautiously feeling the sore spot on his nose, and was not dis- api to be very enthusiastic upon any other sub- ect, ‘**Come here.”’ ‘*Faith, how can I kim to yez, whin I can’t see where ye be?” In spite of bis professed inability to find his com- — Mike managed to step up to him guided by 1is voice. Lawrence seized his hand. ‘*Look up, Mike. You see those chinks over our heads where the light shines through. That’s the trap.” ** Well, I know it.” ‘*Now, if I lift you on my shoulders, don’t you think you could reach it?” Mike Carroll slapped his thigh in his admiration of Lawrence Sinclair's idea, ‘Be gob, Mr. Sunclair, you’ve shtruck it. Av coorse I kin r’ache it from the shoulders uv yez. Let me cloimb up.” Lawrence helped the little Irishman, who was as active as a cat, to his shoulders. “Steady, Mike. Can you reach it, kneeling?” “Divila r’ache! I'll have to shtand on yer shoul- ders. Shtand sbtill, an’ I'll soon be up.” Lawrence braced bhimsélf firmly, and Mike Carroll, who never rt ke of danger, when thoroughly in- terested in anything, stood up with a foot on each of Lawrence Sinclair’s shoulders, and reached for the trap. “ Be jabers, I’ve got it, Mr. Sinclair. Shtand firrum whoile I push up the thrap.”’ He exerted all his strength, for the trap was a very heavy one, and pushed. “Steady, Mike. It’s bard to keep you balanced when you push that way. Is the trap giving?” “Faith, an’ it is,’ puffed Mike, “but it goes al- moighty shtiff ” He gave another push with all bis strength and the trap went un about six inches. letting a flood of light into the subterranean dungeon in which they were. ‘‘Hurroo!"” cried Mike, as grynene where he stood, he attempted to perform a war-dance of tri- umph on Lawrence Sinclair’s shoulders. The result m°y be imagined, Lawrence put up his hands quickly to try and pre- vent the inevitable catastrophe, but in vain. Mike pawed wildly at the air as the trap fell with a crash, and then came tumbling headlong from his companion’s shoulders, ‘Ow! Howly Moses! Merciful saints! St. Path- rick save us! Ow! ow! ow!” Cl