Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 514 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

} mornin’, an’ she got madder still, Then out rushed adude out of a bank, hit me a clip before I was lookin’ for it, an’ spilled me all over th’ sidewalk. ‘Then me an’ Skinny came away. Now, Polly, I want ter know who that other girl is.”"’ “Why, I’m sure! don’t know, Billy,” the girl an- swered. ‘‘I never saw her, I am sure.” ‘* Well, 7 saw her then, an’ I mean ter sce her ag’in, too. I’m goin’ ter know jest who she is, an’ all about her. Why, you two could make your for- tunes as freaks in a dime museum.,”’ “‘Thank you, bnt I don't aspire,”’ said Polly; “nor would my double, I guess, from what you say of her, She was rich, you a § 7: * Well, I should say so, if togs is anything to judge ’ ‘Then she can certainly be no relative of mine.” “No, I don’t .s’pose she is, Polly, but as I said be- fore, 1’m bound ter know w/o she is, or bu’st, An’ as fer that dude that knocked me down— Well, I can’t blame him any, under th’ appearances 0’ th’ circumstances, either; but he didn’t look jest my ideal idee o’ true blue, an’ if I kin git a dig at him in a fair way, I sha’n’t throw away th’ chance, you bet!” “TI would pay no attention to the matter any further,’ Mrs, Weston advised, “‘You will only be running into danger and trouble.”’ “Give up th’ case? Notfer Joseph! I’m neverso happy as when I’m head over ears in detective work, an’ I’m goin’ inter this mystery with a whoop an’ yell that will startle all Gotham an’ cause In- spector Br— Come, though, Skinny, we must be oin’!”’ . Skinny was ready, and together they left the house and returned to Broadway. Both were bootblacks, and both had several regu- jar patrons to serve before five o’clock, so the moment they reached Broadway they parted com- pany and attended to business. In the mean time, barely had the two boys gone from the tenement-house when a closed carriage drew up and stopped before the building. ; The driver got down, opened the door and assisted a closely-vailed lady to alight. The woman went at once into the house, and the driver waited. Meeting a woman in the hall, the stranger inquired where Mrs. Osmond’s rooms were, and being told, passed on up-stairs and knocked at a door. Mrs. Osmond herself opened it, The strange woman passed quickly within, and the door was again closed and locked. Mrs. Osmond was alone, Polly being still with Mrs, Weston on the floor above. ‘* Are we alone?” the visitor asked, with a great show of caution. “Yes,” Mrs, Osmond answered, “‘we are quite alone.” ; Being thus assured, the visitor lifted her vail. She was a woman perhaps forty years of age, pas- ably good-looking, but possessed of an evil, or vengeful, expression of countenance that it was not pleasant to see. ‘The girl?’ she queried, briefly. ‘She is well. She is just up-stairs in the apart- ments of a neighbor.” ‘*T have come for her.” ‘* You mean to take her away?” “But, M BI—" ‘*But, Mrs, Bl— “ Hist! not that name! Call me Mrs, Smith,” “ But, Mrs. Smith, this is so sudden, I am hardly prepared to part with her. I have learned to love er to a certain degree, and I— ‘‘There—there, now, pray let us have no such sen- ‘timentality as this. This is purely @ business mat- ter. Iengaged you at such a price to do a certain work. You have done your part and I have paid you, Here, now, is the flvalsum. Take it, and get the girl peony to accompany me at once. ith trembling hands Mrs, Osmond took the prof- fered money, saying: ‘Yes, you are right. I agreed to do the work and must not hesitate now. I am sorry, though, that I did not abuse the ee & great deal more than I have, and bring myself to hate her. Then the parting would be easy. No one could hate Polly, though, she is so gentle, kind and goo—” “There—there! no more of it.” “No, you are right. But, Mrs, Bl— I mean Mrs. ‘Smith, suppose she will not agree to go with you wil- ling! Ba : She must—she «hall go with me willingly.”’ “Then we must use some clever falsehood with ther. Now listen. I have partly prepared her for this hour, not knowing when it might come, I have frequently explained to ber how poorlam, and have told her that some time, when I could find a suitable place, she would have to Re outin service. Now is he time to have her go. You area lady in gearch of a maid.”’ Ptah yes, I understand; a very good idea, too. But, call the girl down and let me be off. Iam in a u Mrs. Osmond stepped out into the hall and called, and Polly came tripping lightly down the stairs, ““What do you want?” she asked; and then at Sy the stranger present she stopped and bowed y. PeeSit down, Polly,’ Mrs. Osmond said kindly, ‘*T have something to say to you.” Polly obeyed, wondering not a little what could be ecomin ° 2 have often told you,” Mrs, Osmond went on, ** how poor We are, and that something would have ‘to be done som: time to give you achance to earn your own living. _ You are out of place in this house, “you so young and fair, and you must have a change, _ “Now this Jady wants you to go and live with her. Broadway Billy’s Boodle. She is wealthy, y5u will have little or nothing to do, and you will have a fine home and fine clothes as long as you wish to stay.”’ ‘* Yes,’’ the strange woman added, “you shall be as my own child.” ‘But when am Ito go?” Polly asked: ** Now, at once,’’ was the woman’s reply, ‘‘I want you at once or not at all,” ‘It is so sudden—”’ ‘* There—there, now, I will not listen to a word of it. Lam very strange in my ways. I offer you a nice home, Do you want it or not?” ‘*Tt shall be as you say, mamma,” to Mrs. Os- I want you now, must go. Itis the best thing you can You can come and see me often, you ‘* Yes, as often as she likes,” from the strange wo- an. “Then I will go.” Twenty minutes later the carriage drove away, taking with it the woman it had brought, and pretty Polly Osmond, CHAPTER III. A MIDNIGHT SECRET. Miss Maup ELMORE was, as we have stated, about seventeen years of age, and beautiful. She was the daughter of St. John Elmore, a and retired merchant of the great metropo- resided with her parents on one of the fash- ionable up-town streets, She was highly educated, was the belle of the cir- cle in which she moved, and was engaged to be married to Maurice Melvin, a descendant of one of the oldest families of the city. Maurice Melvin was cashier of one of the great banks of the city, the one, in fact,in which Broad- way Billy’s ‘‘ boodle’’—as the boy was pleased to call his fortune—was deposited; and he it was who knocked Billy “ out of time,’’ as shown in our open- Melvin was a young man about twenty-eight, strong,. well built, and supple. too, and just the sort of man to fill and capture the feminine heart, with his easy man- ners and glib tongue. On the afternoon of which we write, Miss Elmore had been down-town on some errand of business, and knowing the hour her lover usually left the bank, had managed to pass the bank about that time. has been told, and as she and ee left the scene of excitement, ed He was good-looking What followe “ What caused the trouble? What led the young **He called me ‘ Polly,’ and perhaps mistook me for some one else. Not very flattering to me, I must Possibly he was honest enough in it all, and really did mistake you for another, but I do not be- Nature could not make another face like yours, so fair—so beautiful!”’ “ There, there, now, that will do, if you please. shall take sides with the rascal now, and did mistake me for some one else.”’ ‘That cannot turn me from my idea of it. world does not contain another face like yours.” Thus they talked, drifting from the subject and entering upon Cupid’s domain, until they arrived at a station of the Elevated railroad, where they board- ed a train for up-town. That evening Maurice Melvin called at the Elmore He had been engaged to Maud for several weeks, but no date had yet been fixed for the wedding to And he was impatient. He was more impatient, in fact, than any one His fortune was spent; his account— or rather the bank's funds—were several thousand dollars short, and ruin and disgrace were staring him in the face. , If he could urge an early marriage it would save Miss Elmore had money—a fortune in her own right, on once his wife he would be able to save Within one month at most she must be his, So he decided. During the evening he brought the question -and it was freely discussed by him, Maud, and and Mrs. Elmore, And so warmly, so stron plead his cause that the tieth of that month, then Saved ?—Could ly, did the young cashier ay was set for the twen- about two weeks away. ined his point, and was—saved! e have foreseen the events of that night he would have trembled for his cause. norder now to narrate those events in proper sequence, we must return to Polly Osmond and fol- low her to her new home, The carriage, as we have described, was a closed one, a style of vehicle not frequently seen, and in it Polly could gain no knowledge of the direction she was being taken, ' He: strange companion had little to say. At last the carriage stopped, the driver sprung down and opened the door, and the strange woman “Here we will get out, my dear. Please draw your vail down over your face before we do so,”’ Polly obeyed, and then the two got out and the y. tly in afashionable or aristooratic street, as the girl concluded, after a brief glan around, but in what part of the city she knew not. large, and of the most stately ‘They were eviden The houges were table appearance, but one brief moment to look about her _ ee ———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————— eel nT —_ though, for the woman led her quickly up the steps “=! one of the finest of the houses, and on into the ouse, There everything went to indicate that it was a house of wealth, and it was the finest place Polly had ever seen. The woman led her up-stairs to a handsome sit- ting-room, and there bade her throw aside her vail, hat and wrap, and make herself at home, ‘** Your duties will be very light,”’ she said. ‘“‘In fact, you will have almost mghinane: | todo. I want you more for company than for anyt ing else,”’ “I shall strive to please you, m’am,”’ Polly an- swered, *‘ and will do whatever I am told,” “Very well, that is all I require. You have not yet learned my name, have you?” “No, m’am.”’ “You may call me Mrs. Smith. That is my name.”’ **'Yes, m’am,”’ * And your name, I understand, is Polly Osmond, is it not?”’ ‘*That is my name.” “Well, really, I do not like ‘Polly’ at all; and ‘Osmond * does not please my ear. Have you any objection to my giving you a new name while you are with me?” This seemed to Polly a rather ridiculous idea, but she felt that she must humor the woman in any whim she might have, and answered: ** No object on whatever, m’am; call me anything you wish.” ‘* Very well then, let me see what it shall be. Now I like the name of ‘Maud’ ever so much. and I guess I will call you that. Maud—Maud wiat? Let me think. It must be cpoctingge Roe iets and aristocratic, and pretty, too, at shall it be? Ah! Ihave it! I shall call you Mauvd Elmore.” ‘‘That is a very pretty name,”’ Polly remarked. ‘*T am glad you like it, and now do not forget that that is to be your name,”’ ‘I shall not forget.”’ “Indeed, I must impress it upon your mind strongly. You will find this a house of mysiery, but not of danger. You are about to enter upon a new life. Did I not promise to care for you as my own child? Then to-morrow when you awake you will find yourself the petred favorite of a household. Do not be surprised at anything you may see or hear, and—"’ ‘*Oh! Mrs. Smith, you alarm me!”’ ‘*Tut—tut! There is nothing to be alarmed at. Only bear this one thing in mind: Do not for one moment forget that your name is Mavd E£imore. Your real name must not be mentioned. Do you understand ?” ‘** Yes. m’am,”’ ‘Very well, You may not see me to-morrow, but on no account must you ask forme, I shall not be near you, perhaps, but so long as you claim the name I have given you, you are safe. Whatis your name now?” ‘*Maud Elmore.” “That is right; do not forget it. And now we will say no more upon the subject. Only bear in mind what I have told you. You may now amuse yourself with the books and pictures here until we are called to tea.”’ Billy was almost frightened. What was the mean- ing of all this mystery? She wished herself safely back in the old tenement. She took up a book and tried to read, but her thoughts were too busy, and it was a great relief when Mrs, Smith invited her down to tea. At the table—she and Mrs. Smitb were the only persons present—she was addressed as Miss Elmore, in the presence of the one old servant, and to that name she responded, About ten o’clock Mrs. Smith conducted ber up- stairs to a handsomely-furnished bedroom, which she told her was to be hers. ‘We are alone to-night,’ the woman said, “‘ but to-morrow the rest of my family will be here. You will behold strange faces then. Do not forget your name—Maud Elmore.”’ And so Polly was left to retiré and dream about her strange adventures. About an hour after midnight the strange “ Mrs. Smith ” appeared in the hall with a small lan*p in hand, and ascended to the top floor of the house. There the ceiling was low, and a short flight of steps led up to the scuttle, Ascending these steps, the woman unfastened the scuttle and silently moved it a little ways open. Then she descended again, put down her lamp, and waited. iu about ten minutes, perhaps, the seuttle was silently opened to its full extent by unseen hands, and then the black face of an old negress appeared at the opening. “ Am it all right?’ she whispered. _The womap below answe with a nod, and mo- tioned her to come down. The negress obeyed, and when she reached the floor the strange woman inquired; ‘Ts it all right over there?” “Yes,” was the reply, ‘it is all right.” mn ‘Good! I think we shall be successful, Let us asten.”’ Quickly but_ silently they descended to the next floor, where Polly Osmond slept, Going to a large room in the rear, thence into a bath-room, there a door was unlocked and both silently entered mite A room. The beautiful girl lay sleeping soundly, all uncon- scious of what was going on around her. The agree woman handed the sere to the old negress, and then drew a bottle from her pocket and saturated her handkerchief with its cay- ten e : Oe ee - _— a -~>— mee <r e e e vara 4 ¢ shh) ier Pull oe Se~ Mir! wm A