Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 514 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

a oe See ee : sight. Broadway Billy’s Boodle, “‘T asked you what doctor you're going for?” “I’m goin’ fer Dr. Strange, No, — Centre street; office hours eight to ten an’ two to four—when he one ter be in. Any further infermation I kin zg ve?” ‘No, I guess not; you may go on.” Billy had given the correct name and address of a <loctor whom he happened to know, and the officer was satisfied and allowed him to continue on his way. The boy darted off at once, and was soon out of ‘*P'licemen is all right,’’ he grumbled, ‘* but they wants ter know too much, §S’pose I’d been red-hot ; after a sneak who had jest robbed me o’ my gold watch or diming studs, if I had sech things; he'd got away sure. Sweet rtaters! ain’t | after a sneak, though? Ain’t l after th’ p’ison reptile that’s got my bank-book! Ginger bread and hurricanes! t makes me grind my teeth in rage ter think of it! Abuer Hawk wasn’t layin’so much fer me as he was fer my boodle, an’ I'll bet a cow on it, Wonder why I couldn’t think of it afore? I’m after him, though, an’if Idon’t make him sickit’ll be ’cause I can’t, that’s all!” And on he ran, in the direction of the late fire, When he arrived upon the scene, nothing re- mained of the old tenement but a blazing pile of ruins and rubbish on the spot where it had so lately stood. A great crowd was still there, held back by police- men, and Billy found it necessary to go wa a full block in order to gain the point he was aiming for. When he had made the detour and come around on the opposite side of the fire, he entered a saloon which was still open. it was a miserable den, and its doors were usually vd sa = its depraved and lawless frequenters nearly all night. Billy knew the place, and knew that there his enemy, Abner Hawk, spent most of his time. The rascal had come to, shortly after Billy had ‘pitched him from the roof of the old tenement, and the boy had heard him ask the firemen to take him to this saloon. The place was well filled, more so than usual, owing to the fire, and all was bustle and excite- , mister,” said ong addressing the bar- ‘tender, “‘ wasn’t Hawkey brought in here a few minutes ago? I want ter see him.”’ ' “Yes, he’s there in th’ back room,” was the re- — He's got a cut in th’ head.” “That so? How did he git that?” ‘**Says a timber struck him at th’ fire.” ‘*Did, eh? Well, that’s too bad. Sorry fer him. I'll step in an’ see him.” ‘* Yes, you'll find him right in there.” Billy passed into the rear room, where he found Mr, Hawk seated in a chair and holding a wet towel ito his head. He looked to be in earihing but a jolly temper, winless we say he was in a jolly bad one. Billy took one glance at iim, and then said: ‘* Hello! Hawkey, old rocks, how goes it?”’ The young villain looked quickly up, and then ssprung to his feet with a cry of rage. ‘Curse ye!” he cried, “are you here?” *Reckon I am,”’ Billy answered; ** that’s th’ way ‘Appearances +eems ter p’int, anyhow.” “Well, I'll settle with ye afore ye git out ag’in, so ‘j-st make up yer mind to (hu. ‘e **T wouldn’t if I was you, Hawkey. . ‘Ye wouldn't! Why wouldn’t ye? “It might not be healthy.” 4 ‘‘ D’ye mean ter say ye're armed? **Come fer me once, an’ see,” Billy’s words and manner seemed to indicate that the had a revolver or two somewhere about his per- - son, and all ready for use. Really be badn’t anything more dangerous than a small pocket-knife. Hawkey settled back in his chair. ‘* What d’ye want?” he asked. ‘I’ve come ter see ye,” Billy replied. ‘‘I heard ge got hit on th’ head with a stick o’ timber at th’ fire, an’ bein’ as ye’re an old friend I thought I'd have ter callon ye an’ inquire about yer state 0’ health.” Hawkey was fairly purple with rage. ‘Shut up an’ git out o’ here,” he cried, “or I'll ‘brain ye!” wre “Don't you try it!” Bill exclaimed, “If ye do -ye'll be sorry, sure pop. Twvere'll be, mourning at your tepee, sure.” ae Soe a was the only fay in the Billy could afford to bully him a little. * Well, what d’ye want ter see mefer? T[ hain’t got nothin’ o’ yourn, have I? Have ye lost any- room, and thing?’ “+e Not as I knows of,” Billy answered, now sure mgs the fellow Aud his book; “i've come ter see ye * Well, spit it out then, an’ let’s hear what it is,” ** There won't nobody hear us, will there?”’ ** No, not if ye don’t holler it at me.” The rascal was now a little interested and curious to know what the boy had to say. Billy did not keep him in suspense, ‘You knows Polly Osmond, I reckon, don’t ye?” the said. ‘*Yes; what of her?” * Well, Tl tell ly Ye see I've been tr in’ to be & little sweet on Polly fera long time, but she wouldn't cotton to me fer a cent. She’ talk to me, but when it kum to talkin’ love to her she wasn’t there, an’ I made up my mind she was in love with somebody ” “Andisshe?” |. “‘ She is, fer a fact. ‘* and who is that somebody else?”’ 7) You.” ie Me!” sa Sure’s e’r’ born.”’ ‘*I don’t believeit! She never used me half decent, an’ often wouldn’t look at me when I'd speak to her. I tell ye I don’t believe it!” **Can’t help it whether ye do or not. Ill bet acow it is so, an’ now I'll prove it to ye. D’ye know where Polly is?’’ ‘**No, do you?” ‘* Allow meter smile. She wasn’t burned up, that’s sure; an’ I know of a little lady who has jest been given shelter in th’ house of a friend over on Orosby street, who wants ter see Mr. Abner Hawk,”’ The young villain was upon his feet at onee, ‘*Come,” he said,’** let’s go. I'm satisfied now. I see through it all. She’s been a-playin’ with my re- gard all along, an’ now when she needs a friend she sends fer me. Bully! Come on, an’ we'll go at once ”’ ‘*‘ Hold yer hosses jest a minute now, an’ don’t let ‘em git away from ye. I’m not done chinnin’ yet.” ‘** Well, tell me what else ye’ve got ter say then, an’ be quick about it, too.”’ ‘“Well, I want ter say this: I didn’t come here ter tell ye this ’cause I love ye, Mr. Hawk, not by a good deal; an’ l’m jest as much yer enemy as I was afore, Still, I’m goin’ ter do th’ square thing an’ take ye ter th’ house where th’ little lady I meationed is awaitin’. After that, then we’re on th’ war-path ag’in as big You know me, I reckon,” “Yes, I know ye,I know ye to be one of the sharpest boys in ail New York?’ “Oh! no | ain’t, not by a hatful! drive pigs. weil go,” The rascal was ready—even anxious to be off, and together they set out. : ** How’s yer head where that ‘stick o’ timber’ bit ye?” Billy inquired as they walked along, The only reply he got was a growl. They continued on in silence then, and Broadway Billy conducted his enemy straight to the house where he and his mother had been given shelter, This, too, was a tenement-house, When they entered Billy said: “Now, Hawkey, you stand right here in th’ hall till I Fo up an’ git a light an’ tell em you're here." “ All right,” the fellow agreed, and Billy hastened up-stairs, He had been absent from the house but about ten minutes or so, and all were up yet. Making a hasty explanation, and asking the man whose room he was in to assist him in his plan, he caught up the lamp and stepped out and told his enemy to come - ' Billy’s friend, the man who had given him and his mother shelter, was & car-driver, a big, muscular man, and he stationed himself behind the door with a stout club in hand. Up came Mr. Hawk, and entered the room with- out a shadow of et ene He soon found, though, that he was in a trap. Billy closed the door behind him at once, and then the big car-driver lifted his club and exclaimed: ‘*Look here! you rascal, you! if you've got a bank-b>ok as belongs to this here lad, jest trot it out!”’ Hawkey was thunderstruck. I’m too slow to Come, though, if ye’re all ready, an’ He turned pale, glared at Billy, and cried: “This isa trap, curse ye! Ye lied ter me! Ye said Polly was here, an’—”’ “Hold on, now,’ Billy admonished, ‘‘ ye’re a-get- tin’ too fast. I didn’t say nothin’ of th’ sort. I said there was a ‘little lady ’ here, an’ there she is—my respected mother,”’ **Oh! but I'll fix ye fer this! Til—” “You're all blow. Come, out with that book, or nomad be another stick o’ timber a-fallin’ onto yer ead,”’ norte ain’t got no book o° yourn, How could I get “Tl mighty soon see whether ye have or not,”’ de- clared the car-driver, ‘‘Ill search ye; and he moved a step nearer. Abner Hawk saw that he was in a tight place, with no chance to escape, and he knew, whether the others did or not, *‘ that he Avd the boy's book; so snatching it from his pocket he threw it upon the oor. ‘* Now let me out o’ here,’ he demanded. Billy picked up bis book, glanced at it to see that it was a ht, and then aaki: * All right, my hearty, git /” and he opened the door for the crestfallen rascal to retire. ‘* You'll pay for this, you will,” the latter threat- ened, as he hastened to make good his escape. play me any better trick, go ahead. Look out an- other ‘stick o’ timber’ don’t hit ye, though.” Next day, as soon as the bank was open, Rilly and his motber called there and drew out two hundred dollars, and having already found rooms, Mrs. Weston set out to buy the necessary furniture to be- gin housekeeping anew, Meanwhile the origin of the fire in the old Center street tenement remained a mystery. The firemen, however, had made discoveries which led them to believe that it was the work of an incendiary. And such, though they could not prove it, was the fact—a fact which bas much to do with the progress of our romance. CHAPTER VI. POLLY OSMOND’S PERPLEXITY. WE are impatient to return to the Elmore residence and follow the adventures of pretty Polly ond, hat a strange position she was placed in! Can the reader imagine a‘situation stranger? She, a beautiful girl, the very likeness of the true Maud El- more in face and form, and yet so unlike her in edu- cation and social refinement, to be sud trans- ferred into a new life—a new personality. Maud Elmore had been reared in the very lap of luxury; Polly Osmond in all the poverty of a down- town tenement, Imagine, if you can, the results of such an un- heard-of complication, Here was pretty Poily, the child of the tenement, with only a common school apolo for an educa- tion, suddenly tranformed into Miss Maud Elmore, ed educated, accomplished and wealthy society e, And it has becn impressed upon her mind that she must claim the name of Maud Elmore as her own. What must b> the outcome? When Polly awoke it was broad day. The sun was shining into her windows, and in another room could be heard the voice of some one singing, singing mer- rily but not loudly. olly recognized the room at once—or sup she did—as the one into w ich the strange Mrs. Smith had shown her on the previous night. It will be remembered that the room in the other house was like this one in its general appearance and appointments—in fact, as we have said; was al- most a fac-simile, Polly sat up in bed and looked around for a mo- ment, and then slipped quietly out upon the floor. The first thing to attract her notice to herself was the richness of her night-robe. “he examined it with both admiration and sur- prise. How had it been Rut on her, and she sound asleep and her door locked? She could not understand it, Then her eyes fell n the several rings on her Spgets, one of which Was a brilliant and costly dia- mond. What could it mean? mentally termed it? Was she in a household of lunatics, or was she dreaming? No, she was awake, and it must havé been some peculiar whim of the strange Mrs, Smith to Pe acs the surprise for her. While she was still eonng her rings the singing in the other room ceased, and the door leading to the bath-room opened. A young woman, Miss E’more’s maid, entered. She was good-looking, stylishly dressed, and only her jaunty lace cap and Snowy apron gave evidence of her rank in the household. ** Good-morning.”’ she’said. with a bow; ‘‘ you are up a little earlier than usual,”’ Miss Elmore would at once have given some witty reply, ana then followed it with directions concern- ing her toilet. olly did nothing of the kind. She said good-morning soberly, bowed to the maid ae i sieton de and then stood anal looked at her. The maid, much disconcerted, knew not what to make of this, and an awkward pause followed. ~ I prepare your bath?” she presently in- Why such folly--as she quired. ‘Must I take a bath?” Polly asked, innocently. The maid stood and stared at her in amazement. “T asked you if I must (take a bath,”’ Polly re- peated. ** [—I—it is just as Me wish,”’’ the maid stammer- ed. “I will prepare it if you wish.” ** No,”’ said Polly, *““do not doso. Ido not bathe very frequently, and I may take cold. MayI ask who you are?” — ‘ heavens!’" the maid cried, clasping her bands and turning pale, ‘‘ what has come over you, Miss Elmore?” This recalled to Polly’s mind all that the strange Mrs, Smith had said. What could all this mystery mean? She had promised to answer to the name of Maud Elmore and to none other, and Mrs, Smith bad pany intimated that her personal safety depended on it. Whatever the secret was, she must play her part, ‘Nothing has come over me, I guess,” she said, trying to force a smile. “Then why do you ask who I am? and why do you ney you are not used to bathing? You must know that I am your maid, and that I assist you a8 your bath regularly every morning.” ‘*Tt must have slipped my mind.” ** Are you not well, Miss Elmore?” “Tam quite well, I thank you.” “Then why do you act so unlike your usual self? You reall me.” Polly Osmond realized her position. By some means or other she had been put in the true Mand Elmore’s place. This was Elmore’s maid. Where, then, was Miss Elmore? Was it ble that she could resemble her so ae that her own maid could not detect the fraud? Then came the great question—what was she todo? Must she obey the woman who had pny oe her there, and on the papersaon as well as she could? Or should she expoee it all? She knew not what todo. She was com letely in the dark, On the one had she knew not what harm she would be doing to the real Miss Elmore, who- ever she was, by carrying on the deception; and om the other hand she knew not what harm might be- faliher if she revealed the truth. She wasin de- cidedly a most unpleasant quandary. She thought it all over quickly, and resolved to play the role for that day at least.’ Incéed, she had promised to do so. Surely it would come out all ht. ne DoT act unlike myself?” she Miss Elmo “Indeed, yes; and did I not knew you as well asf . do, I would "believe you are not re at all. JNA com -— —- oo " . cS. 900