Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 686 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

> “ 4 ** How so?” ‘* Because you'll never see it or the man again.” ‘* Oh! yes, I will, I’ve got an appointment to mest him, when he will introduce me to my son. See?’ ‘* W here is this meeting to take place?” ‘¢ At the Hoffman House,” This information caused Dick to waver for a moment in bis opinion. If Penn was menaced by a confidence-man, it was odd that one of the very best, and most respectable hotels had been chogen as the place of meeting. “Pe continued his inquiries tersely: ** When?” ‘¢ At noon, to-morrow,” ‘* What was the name of this man who called upon you?” ‘* Samuel Slater.” Dick gave vent to a low whistle, Fresh from the interview with Inspector Byrnes, the name had a striking meaning, just then, At that moment he carried in his pocket the list of the most noted of these confidence men, and among them was that of Slater, alias Sawdust Sam. If the two Slaters were one and the same per- son, the old gentleman was certainly iu danger, as far as his pocketbook was concerned. ‘*T advise you not to keep this appointment,” the detective prince replied. ** Why not?” ** Because [ think it a trap—” ‘* Do ye know Slater?” **Oh! I’ve heard of him. He don’t bear the best reputation in the world. If you go to the Hoffman House, you had better leave your money behind with your wife.” * Not much! I allus handles my own mon- ey! ‘All right, sir, but if you get done up, you wiil remember what I told you,” “Hadn’t you better do as he says, father?” asked Mrs, Penn. | ‘** (ll do as J says!” replied Peter, obstinately. ‘* But there may be some mistake,” ‘‘ There ain’t none!” declared Mr. Penn, with growing decision. ‘* Mr. Slater is a friend o’ Jimmy’s, an’ Jimmy’s friends is all right.” ‘*T left word at Hotel Dam,” Dick added, é for your son to call here if he should show 3 ‘a ‘* Tf he don’t live there reg’lar,” observed Mrs, Penn,,‘‘I don’t b’lieve he lives right in New York.” ‘* Nor do I,” replied Dick. “I’ve heard of old William Penn, but I'll wager there’s no very rich Penns in New York.” After some deliberation, Dick decided not to interfere with the old man going to the Hoffman House; but he would be there, too, to watch pr ings. t might prove to be the very chance to get evidence against Slater. CHAPTER IV. BILLY BUCKET AND—SOMEBOBY ELSE, LEAVING the Penns, Dick proceeded to look about the city, and in the course of his rambles was surprised to encounter an old friend. It was Billy Bucket, his boy partner of the secre, Island case, but there was a great change in him, asl tae yet but young, he had apparently developed into a full-fledged mmer, and was then evidently just recovering from the effects of a A og ‘* Well, Billy, I thought you were in the far West!” Dick exclaimed. ‘* What are you doing here in New York, aud in this condition? When I last saw you, you were tixed up like a a gentleman; now you look like a bum!’ ‘ I feel like one this mornin’, friend Dick; but I’m awful glad to see you. But come! let’s drop in here, I must have a bracer before Ill feel like myself, and we kin chin too.” So they entered a large beer garden near at hand, and became seated. . The huge orchestrion was playing, and every- where in the immense hall, all was bustle. ick and Billy became seated, and the boy ordered whisky for himself, while Dick simply sii: in a Cigar.) ; at es, I’m purty well broke up, that’s a ac “I got tired of it out West, an’ was glad to et back here, I got to drinkin’ out there, an’ blowed in all my sugar. How to git back here I didn’t know. But luck was wid me, I we up a pocketbook some rich chap had opped, and you kin bet I didn’t lose no time, OEE ee eee ee ee eee... . ———————K——— ool w-? TT oe ee ee re ere ~ . - - - * ; PY » i. : - os 7 . Deadwood Dick, Jr., After the ()ueer. loon down in Wooster street. Et ain’t exactly a straight place, ’cause my customers is mostly crooks o’ one sort or ’nother; but they allus pore out the sugar. I ain’t doin’ so bad, even if be in poor clothes an’ without cash jest now, fer 'm makin’ ten a day, an’ some days more. I never drink in me own place, but git my bra- cers somewhere else. There! Now ye know, as near as I kin tell ye, what [’ve been doin’ sence you seen me last!” ‘* You’ve been doing very little good to your- self, or to any one else!” Dick replied, sternly. ‘* Why don't you throw up the saloon, and stop drinking?” Tears sparkled in the youth’s eyes, ‘‘ I'd ’a’ done et, ef I had had enny one to en- courage me. After you left me, | felt as if I hadn’t a friend left. I took a drink o’ whisky, and that seemed ter comfort me. Then I took another, an’ another and continued to feel bet- ter. Sol kept on, until I got all broke up. I know I've been a focl, but ef you was to take me back ag’in, ’d brace up, and be like I was before—indeed I would, boss!” This was said in a manner which touched the detective, in spite of the youth’s disreputable appearance, ick, to tell truth, was about as much affect- ed as the boy was—for Billy now wept piteous- y: P “Well, Billy,” Bristol replied, ‘‘T'll take you back on the condition that you won’t drink any more. You can be of service to me, perhaps, by retaining your saloon, so I will nut just yet bar that out. If itis a source of profit to you, in a pecuniary sense, it may be to me, in a pro- fessional sense.” ‘* How do you mean?” ‘‘Promise me, first, that this is your last drink; then I will confide in you,” The poor boy shuddered as he heard the re- quest, ** Dick,” he said, ““I’d like to, but I dassent, I’m sure I'd git ’em!” ‘‘The jim-jams?” ‘‘ Yes, I'll agree to taper off by degrees, and you shall be the doctor; but I can’t shut off all to once—sure, I can’t!” ‘* Very well. Dll be as lenient with you as I can, And when I think you need a drink, you shall have it. Go get yourself a whole new out- fit, and come to the Hoffman House, at twelve o'clock, preventable in appearance. Promise me not to drink again till I see you?” **Can I have a nip, then? 46 Yes,” Then Dick left him, ** Poor boy,” he muttered, *‘ I cannot but pity him! But, no fear—Pll fetch him to erick, as the Irishman says, and utilize him, at the same time!” This encounter gave the detective food for thought, and he studied considerably on how be could redeem Billy, while looking around further. Meeting with no adventure he retired early, that night, and, the next day, turned his steps toward the Hoffman House at a suitable hour to see how Peter Penn succeeded. He arrived there in pretty good season, and as the corridors, picture gallery and bar were crowded, he managed to keep out of view. He had never been in the hotel before, but se- cured a good position for observation. The place was thronged with men who, in the majority of cases, were strangers to each other, and so there was little danger that he would be noticed. He lita cigar, and stood leaning against the wall at a convenient point, Presently, a stranger approached, * Mr. Bristol, | believe?” he said. ‘* Well, yes. Who are you? if I may ask,” ‘*My name is James Penn!” Here was a revelation, but it did not impress Deadwood Dick very favorably. . The stranger’s age was, evidently, just about right for the de- mands of the case, and be was far from being ill-looking, but, the shrewd detective at once conceived dislike and suspicion toward him. Even if he was the missing Jimmy, how, did it happen that he knew Dick? ‘**Am I to understand that I ought to rec nize an pai areca in you?” the detective quietly asked, betraying no surprise. ‘‘Is the name new to you?” asked the alleged Jimmy, with a smile, ‘‘ Why should it be otherwise? ‘Oh! come now, I am all right; and you need not hesitate to speak right to the point. I am Jim Penn, and J have mn informed that you arrived with my parents. You were seen in twenty minutes to one. to their present whereabouts, I shal! be glad to see them,” ‘*if you wait a while, you may be able to recognize your father among the crowd,” Dick suggested. . ‘Yes; if he comes,” ‘Oh! I reckon he will come.” Sp He must have changed some since I saw im, ‘*A man is likely to know his own father,” Dick answered, with growing suspicion. If the stranger detected any shadow of doubt, he did not betray the fact. His manner continued quiet and easy. He smiled slightly. ‘Well, | reckon I ougbt to know the old man, even if I have been away fourteen years, I generally recognize avy one I’ve seen once. Tell you the truth, ’ve seen youand the old folks, for I was on the train when it left Peeks- kill, and knew my parents, I thought you were a friend of theirs; so, says I, I'll surprise ’em. So when you arrived at the depot Il was first off the train, but conldn’t get eyes on you again.” This was a statement calculated to awaken fresh suspicion, ‘Failing to locate you,” resumed the self- styled Jimmy, ‘‘I bad to wait the progress of events. I rung in a friendof mine—being busy, myself—and he wert about to investigate the various hotels. Of course he found the old folks’ name when he struck the Grand Union.” ‘‘ Strange that you didn’t go there to see your worthy parents, instead of inviting Penn here.” ‘“‘That, sir,” was the stiff reply, ‘‘ was a private affair.” ‘‘T presume it was a private affair, also, when you gave them a false address,” Dick returned, sarcastically. ‘You gave your address as the Hotel Dam, and, when I inquired there, I found that you were wholly unknown at the place.” **Ob! LT only dropped in and used a bit of their stationery, for the occasion,” ‘*But, you either plainly told your father, or gave bim the impression, that you were actually residing there.” ‘‘ Well, what is that to you?” was the quick, belligerent rR ‘“ Simply this; 1 think you are.a fraud!” * You do?” ‘‘ That’s the plain English of it.” Dick spoke with quiet unconcern, The self- styled James was putting on an air as bhough: he intended to resent this insinuation agains his character in true pugilistic style, but he did not create a ripple in the detective’s mind, ‘Sir, if you were not my father’s friend, I would do you up!” the stranger declared. | ‘‘T am not his friend.” ‘*T believe you, You are a traitor—” ‘¢‘T am Peter Penn’s friend, but he is not your father!” There was a savage glitter in the claimant’s eyes, but he evidently thought it best to control his anger. Possibly he was observing enough to see that Dick could walk all over him, in a fight, and not half try. ‘*Bah! we are wasting words!” he declared. ‘*T won’t quarrel with you, for Peter Penn would object. He will vouch for me when he comes,” | ‘“‘T will see you meet him,” was the detective’s quiet response. The alleged Jimmy curled his lips scornfully, and then, without another words went a few steps away and sat down. nani ‘* T’}] see the end of this!” muttered Dick, ~ CHAPTER V. A FOOLISH MAN FROM KANSAS. DEADWOOD Dick consulted his watch, It was already past the hour of noon. It was at twelve o’clock that Mr. Peter Penn was to be at the hotel to meet his son, but he had not shown up. The son-—or some one claiming to be the son— was there in plain view. The alleged Jimmy Penn sat at one side and was wrapped in a mantle of serene composure. If any uneasiness existed in his mind, it did not show in bis man- ner. 3 Was he really Peter’s son? This was what the detective could not determine. sgh Time passed, and Dick’s watch indicated He began to fear that the old farmer was not coming, No father would be so late when invited to meet bis son, it seemed. | At that moment a bell-boy approached, and nor let any buffler rast grow under my feet ’til | conversation with them, shortly before you I got back to New York. ‘ete reached New York, by a friend of mine, If | stated that the clerk wished to see Dick. ‘The ‘T had money left, and so I bought out a sa-} you can tell me where they are, or conduct me ! latter went to the gentleman named. | : J / : 4 . » . Mi, ol ‘y Bey | ws » 4 x a ay Ee 7 4 hae : ¥ ic a ' . ( f Ly ae ah aA ai a eres OG i eh RAMMED YET Mn aye es, cok eC . game. Bets sh faa Wg ae Bas a Ne tc Vi le oat se a, gee weer Bea xfer a or Ibias igee Saeh nl ts ee ae i les . ~~ er eg . .