Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 514 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

» * ~ ~~ ee ee: ee mee * ne oa * trail. en a eS TS TE a “ Jest what I thought myself. Say, though, how’s yer cashier? Has he showed any indications o’ ongin’ fer a cooler clime? Has th’ fever begun to get hold o’ him? That’s a complaint that has ter be nipped in its first stage, Mr, Herman, or it takes th’ victim off without warnin’.”’ Just then the cashier came out. CHAPTER IX, BILLY MEANS BUSINESS. ‘‘Swrerr pertaters!’ Billy mentally exclaimed, ‘sneak of th’ Old Nick an’ he’s bound ter show up. R-ckon I’m in fer bein’ exposed as a double-dyed loafer, now, sure. Guess I kin stand it though, Truth is mizhty, as th’ poic says, an’ all in good time my character will shine forth like th’ ‘lectric light on a foggy night, dispellin’ th’ shadders 0’ doubt like th’ risin’ sun dispais. Anyhow, that’s th’ way it goes in th’ story-books—or words to that ef- fect. But. let’s hear what his dudeship has got ter say. Let ’er go, Gallagher.” ‘What! Mr. Herman,” the young cashier cried, “4do you allow such a young ruffian as this to black your ts?” ‘Oh! is it you, Melvin?” ** Yes, sir.’ ‘‘Our young friend here was just speaking about you, indirectly. He was inquiring if my cashier had any symptoms of the Canadian fever. Quite a joke, eh? Ha. ha. ha!” Had Mr. Herman looked at his cashier at that in- stant. he would have been seriously in doubt whether it was a joke or not. But he was looking down at Billy to see how fe would take it, now that he was face to face with the cashier. Billy, though, glanced up at Melvin at just the right moment, and saw him turn as pale as death for one brief instant. + But.’ Mr. Herman added, ‘“‘ why do you call the >a a young ruffian?” e now looked at the cashier, but the paleness had gone as quickly as it had come, and he saw nothing of it. In fact, the fellow was smiling. Billy had just given the finishing touch to his task, and he rose up. ‘“ Because he is such!”’ the cashier declared. “‘ He grossly insulted a young lady yesterday afternoon, a most estimable young lady—in fact, none other than Miss Maud Elmore, my affianced bride; and I had the pleasure of knocking him down as he de- served.”’ Mr. Herman looked at Billy, and the boy had his reply ready. ‘ Phat’s one side o’ th’ story,” he said. ‘‘ Now I'll give ye t‘other. Th’ young lady was passin’ by here, an’ 1 mistook her for somebody else, an’ spoke to her. Didn’t say one word that was insuitin’, I sim- ly made a mistake in th’ party, an’ that was all. h’ lady got huffy, though, an’ then this spider-leg- ed dude rushed out an’ hit me a clip when I wasn't ookin’ fer it. He can’t do it ag’in, though, an’ I’m bettin’ rocks on it!” The cashier was purple with rage at being called such a name, and looked as though he would like to Pet it again, but the dignity of his position would not allow it. “You had better be careful what you say,” he warned, “ or I will have you arrested. You are too smart. Your long tongue will get you into trouble *. gg ae Lordy! it’s done that lots o’ times. It’s got me out o’ trouble a heap more times, though, an’ J guess it's good fer a few times more.” “It won't be, if you don’t take care how you use it, I can tell you.”’ “I’ve got an idee it’s my own,” Billy retorted, é+an’ I reckon I'll use it as [ please.” The cashier turned his back upon the boy and ad- dressed himself to Mr, Herman, “What I have told you, sir, is true,” he declared, «« and I have just received word that Miss Elmore is seriously ill—in fact, has lost her reason. IT have no doubt the shock this boy gave her yesterday has somet ing to do with it. If1I find it has— Well, let him look out. T will bid you good-afternoon, sir.” ‘‘ Good-afternoon, Melvin. I hope roo will find Miss Elmore better. I cannot believe the boy meant any barm.”’ The cashier walked away then, and in a moment more so did the president, * Sweet pertaters!’’ Billy exclaimed, ‘‘ but this is rich! This is more’n I hoped for, Didn't know hardly how ter go about gettin’ this information, an’ hang me if th’ dude didn't come right up an’ give it to me. He’s a hoss, Ae is a boss’s tail! I’m layin’ fer him, I bet! If I kin give him a back-hander, I'll be th’ happiest boy in New York. Sweet pertaters! but it is rich. That gal’s name, it seems, is Maud Elmore, an’ now I'll bet a dime that I’m on the right it, let’s see; two an’ two makes four, don’t it? I’ve got some addin’ ter;do, I reckon. I must add ‘ Miss Maud Elmore’ to that address Skinny gev me, an’ see what’ll be th’ sum _ total. But, how’m I ter do it? Lordy! I wish I had more brain an’ less chin, mebby I'd be goee fer somethin’, I must dust around, now. an’ do somethin’. that’s sure, or I'll jose th’ conferdence o’ Inspector Br— Ab! here's an idee, an’ I'll grab it while it’s hot!" Going at once into a store where he was known he asked permission to look at the city Directory. Permission g-ined, he opened the book at “E” and looked for “Elmore.” That name was soon found, and then running his finger down the list he looked for the address fur- nished him by Skinny as the place where he had housed the detective. | To his great joy he soon found it, and the name in the preceding column was—“St. John Elmore.” a doo — Broadway Billy’s Boodle. Making careful mental note of the name, the boy returned thanks for the use of the book and went out. * Sweet pertaters, ham-bones, sky-rockets an’ sun- flowers!” he exclaimed, “‘ but I'm on th’ right trail, sure as guns! Oh! bow Id like ter find out jest «hat case that detective is workin’ at, an’ have th’ luck ter take th’ prize out o’ his hands! Hang me if i don’t begin ter believe there és a little bit o’ detec- tive genius about me somewheres, an’ if I could only locate it, put on a poultice an’ draw it toa head, I believe I'd be a reg’lar Pinkerton. Now I’m goin’ inter this case th’ hull hog or nothin’. I'll git right up an’ show Inspector Br— Hello! here's Skinny, jest th’ lad I want ter see, - A Fatty, where ye goin’?”’ * Hello! Billy, is that you?” ‘** Guess it is.’ “Tt looks like ye, anyhow. Say, I was jest comin’ ter find ye.”’ ‘* An’ I was jest goin’ ter look fer you. What d'ye want 0’ me?” “T've got a p’inter fer ye.” “Ye have? What is it?” ‘‘ Ye remember that feller that knocked ye down yesterday, don’t ye?” ‘Well, I should say so! I seen him only a few minutes ago, too,”’ “ Did ye?” “-Yes.’" ‘‘ Where did you see him?” ‘‘He was up th’ street @ ways. s’pose he was talkin’ to?” ‘*Give it up. I ain’t worth a cent at riddles.” ‘‘Why, he was talkin’ to that enemy o’ yours, that feller ye was tellin’ me ye had th’ scrimmage with last night.”’ ‘ ‘*Not Ab. Hawk?” “That's th’ bird.”’ “Sweet pertaters! Skinny, I kin tell ye some things in this garden o' posies is growin’ so fast they're runnin’ ter seed. I’m gettin’ mighty interested in this case now, even if I Aaze got hold o’ th’ wrong end first.” “ An’ what was you a-comin’ ter look fer me for?” Skinny inquired. “Why, | want ye ter take my reg’lar customers off o’ my hands fer a day orso. I'm goin’inter this ease th’ hull hog or nothin’. Will ye do it?” “Yes, of course I will; ain't we pards?”’ ‘Yes, an’ I’m proud of ye, too. If ye wasn’t so awful fat ye’d be more bootiful ter look at, but 'm satisfied with ve. Now here’s a card with all my customers’ names on, and ye’ll see there's only six more ter do ter-day."’ And Billy went on to give full directions. ‘* All right,’’ said Skinny. “‘I grip yer idee, an’ I'll tend ter biz in a way that'll do our company credit.”’ “Haven't th’ least doubt of it, pardner,”’ Billy answered, and bidding his friend good-by he started for home. ‘*So,.”” he muttered, ‘‘Ab, Hawk was talkin’ to that cashier feller, was he? Wonder what is up with them? It looks like funny biz. Wonder if it has anything ter do with his tryin’ ter take my bank- book last night?’ When he reached home he put on his best clothes at once, took 4 hasty lunch from the closet, and tell- ing his mother where he was going, set out. Pag he reached the street a new surprise awaited m. A carriage was just drawing up to the curb a short distance away, and Abner Hawk was advanc- ing to meet it. “Sweet rtaters!’’ Billy exclaimed at_once, “here is still another quill ia th’ wing. Wonder what this means?” There wes no possible chance for him to get near enough unobserved to hear what was said, but he could see all that passed. The carriage was a closed one, and when Abner Hawk reached it, its door swung oren just a little. Some little conversation was carried on in alow tone, evidently, and then Hawk put out his hand — ie vig something which he at once put into s et. Then a moment later the carriage drove away, and Hawk turned and entered the saloon where he spent a great deal of his time. All in an instant Broadway Billy resolved to fol- low that carriage. But, how was he todo it? It had started off ata lively gait, and there was not a vehicle in sight that he could possibly hire. Knowing well that there was no time to be lost in debating the question, he set out on a run to follow it on foot, Straight up Centre street to Canal the carriage went, thence to Broadway, and then up that great thoroughfare. Billy was not a great ways behind when Broadw was reached, but his wind was nearly spent, and tt was a great relief to him when he saw the carriage turn up town. and saw also a street car right at hand going in the same direction. He boarded the car at once. For some distance the carriage held the lead, but after two or three awkward blockings had been en- countered, the driver of it turned his horse asi'e | and allowed the car to pass, when he fell behind it. Seeing this move about to be made, Billy stepped inside the car in order not to be seen. Not that he had any idea the driver of the carriage would know him, but if he should s’e him again — on he mi:zht suspect that he was watching m. Up Broadway to Fourteenth street the carriage went. and then it turned to the left. A, moment later and Billy was again following it on foot. But, who d’ye ——— eee LL LLL LLL LLL LLL TS ° 3a. — ee Down to Sixth avenue he was led, and then north- ward again. Here, too, Billy was able to take acar. Quite a distance was traveled in this Way, and then, when a very fashionable part of the city was reached, the caariage turned inte one of the num- bered streets in the direction of Fifth avenue, To Billy’s surprise and delight he found that this was the street on which St. John Etmore : Again the boy followed, at a safe distance, but this time he had not far to go. the carriage soon stopped before 4 house, a woman got out and went in, and then the carriage drove away. Billy took note of the number of the house, and then again he followed the carriage, He thought it might possibly bring him further light, ut in this he was mistaken. The driver went straight to a stable in another street, and horse and carriage disappeared. “That seems ter settle thab p’int,” Billy decided. ‘‘ Guess th’ trail ended back there at th’ house where th’ woman got out. Reckon I'l toddle back to th’ neighborhood o’ that vicinity now, an’ see how th’ land lays. It’s queer how strange it is, b’mighty! but thac’s th’ same street St. John Elmore lives on. There’s a nigger in th’ fence, sure PoP. This heur t o’ mystery is beginnin’ ter b’ile. An’ lm on cand ter poke up th’ fire an’ keep it b’ilin’, too. I want ter git in ahead o' that reg’lar detective, if I kin, an’ show Inspector Br— Hello! here’s th’ street! Now fer it.” Billy soon found the house he had seen the woman enter, and took a careful survey of its front. But it told him nothing. Then he went on to the Elmore residence, which he noted was six doors from the other house. and there, after a moment's hesitation, he rung the bell. CHAPTER X. MAUD ELMORE MYSTIFIED. It is not by any means our intention to forget Miss Maud Elmore. When she awoke, on the morning following the night of her abduction from her own room and home. it wis 4 little later than the hour in which Polly Osmond awoke. The sun was shining into her room, and she, of course, had no thought that anything unusual had been going on during the night. The room was hers—in appearance, and there was nothing whatever to create alarm and suspicion in the girl’s mind. Lying awake for some moments, enjoying the re- freshing rest so natural to youth and health, she presentiy arose and called for her maid. There was no answer. She called again, and as there was still no reply, she a to the door opening into the bath-room, and leading to the room her maid occupied. To her surprise that door was locked. What could it mean? Then for the first time she noticed that she was not in her usual night attire. She was astounded, f ickly she turned to the door leading into the all. That, too, was locked, Then she turned to the windows and looked out, and— Good heavens! where was she? This was not her own room! The house across the street was not the one opposite her own room. Where could she be? And yet, this room must be hers. in all respects—color, furniture, thing. ed 5) quickly to the wardrobe, Maud flung open the door. It was empty. Heavens! had anything been stolen? She turned then to the bureau and threw open the drawer in which she kept all her jewelry, Not a thing was there. Surprised and frightened beyond measure, the girl burst into tears. ‘Ob! what has happened—where can I be?” she sobbed. “This is my room, and yet nothing out- side seems natural. The houses all seem to have changed places, and— Ah! there is the one that is opposite my own room!" it was. It was the fifth or sixth house further down the street, 7 All this took 3 ey in less time than it has taken us 8. to pen the wo aud was naturally brave, and after the first shock of surprise and dismay was over she dried her eyes and began to try to reason. She had but merely parted the lace curtains to look out, fearing she might be seen, and she now turned back into the room. Had nothing been left ‘“Where were her clothes? whatever? She looked around, and on @ chair near the head of the bed she espied the clothes which had been worn by Polly Osmond. She examined them. They were of common material. but were neatly made and scrupulously clean, and she resolved to put them on—and did. She was now Polly gate as any one who had ever known Polly would have declared instantly. Having dres herself, she stepped back to the window and drew the curtains aside boldly. Horror! She made the discovery then that the window, on the inside, was crossed by three stout iron bars. This discovery increased her alarm anew. She tried to raise the window, then, only to find it securely fastened down by some unseen means. It was the same pictures—every- co. a > en,