Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 637 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

im seer so 10 the lost Kingdon heir, Where did you pick him up!” Wattles colored. ‘*There’s where you get your money, is it?” she went on. sé No )”? The next instant he threw out his hands and caught her wrists. At the same time he looked fiendishly into ber face, Mad Meg struggled to escape, but he held her as with the merciless grip of a vise. ‘* No, you don’t!” be laughed, pushing her back intoachair. ‘‘I don’t intend to let you ruin what chances I have for feathering my nest. You belong where you have lately been.” The woman seemed to lose all flower of resist- ing, as if Waffles had inspired her with a name- less terror. Suddenly seizing a handkerchief, he bound it tightly over her mouth, and did not stop until she was a helpless prisoner in the chair. **Now wait there until they come for you,” said he, quitting the room with a parting look. He went down-stairs and sought the nearest ere aa exchange which was in the neighbor- ood, Calling up a certain private asylum in the city’s suburbs, he sent a message that Mad Meg, the escaped patient, was to be found ab such a place, then waited for an answer, and having received it, he went back with a grin of sardonic delight on his face to find the mad bird he had caught still in the chair. An hour after these events a covered van drove up to the gutter beneath bis room, and with his own hands Wat Waffles assisted his Aiea into it and saw her taken back to the mad- 10use, oe CHAPTER XII. AN IMP OF COOLNESS, DiIck O’ THE DoOcKS, whom we left in the dark cellar beneath the dungeon-like room in Mother Scammon’s house in Jersey, was not destined to perish there, Thoughts of discouragement, but not of hopelessness, were taking bold on him when he heard the faint click of a lock some- where overhead, and by listening attentively he heard the hum of voices, He felt that some person besides Waffles and Mother Scammon had come back, and his heart beat rapidly for joy. When he had made up his mind that he had nothing to fear from the par- ties above, he shouted with all his might and seemed to attract attention. By diligent search by Cid Cuyler the detective and Mollie, the trap-door was discovered, and a few blows with an ax destroyed its usefulness as a barrier to liberty. In a little while the imprisoned boy was drawn up by the strong arms of the detective, and was eiclecaad by Mollie, whose eyes looked brighter than ever. Cuyler detailed the arrest of Mother Scam- mon for the murder of Pappy Powder, the city hermit, but Dick shook his head doubtingly at the end of the narrative. ‘*The person I saw standing in the shadow of Pappy Powder’s steps the last time I left the old man alive, wasn’t Mother Scammon,” said the scavenger of the docks, ‘‘ Aha! you saw some one there, did you?” queried the detective. ‘*] did, I brushed the person in hiding, and Meise i looked back, I thought I recognized the orm, . ‘* Whose form, think you, Dick?” “Wat Waffles’s,” This answer threw Cuyler into a deep study. ‘Mother Scammon may be innocent after all,” said he, ‘*‘ We detectives don’t like to make any mistakes, but I don’t want to see the innocent suffer for the guilty. Mother Scam- mon hated Pappy Powder, who was a bard old knot to deal with when she left him.” ‘* When she left him? What do you mean?’ exclaimed Mollie. The detective smiled before he replied. ‘*You don’t seem to know much about the st life of the woman with whom you have ived,” said he, turning to the girl. ‘*Did you ever dream that she was once Pappy Powder’s wife?” abi ogy light appeared to illumine the girl’s mind, ‘That seems to unlock a little mystery,” she exclaimed, crossing the room, Dick and the detective waited for her to re- turn, and when she came back she held in her hand a small package which, when opened, was found to contain a cbild’s picture. : ‘*Can this be Mother Scammon’s boy?” Mollie asked, as Cuyler took the picture from her. Dick leaned forward and studied the portrait with a good deal of interest. ‘¢ Tt must be he!” he cried, drawing the atten- tion of both Mollie and the detective to him, ** What do you mean, Dick?” ‘*T mean that [ see a striking resemblance be- tween the face in the picture and Custer King- don, the broker’s son. It is not strong enough to swear by, but I can’t help thinking that we are at last on the right trail.” ‘*T trust we are, for if the broker has been de ceived he must be rescued from the hands of the plotters,” ‘Did Mother Scammon have a son?” asked the boy detective. ‘* She did.” A Sy she was Pappy Powder’s wife?” sé es, ** 'W hat became of the child?’ ‘* The woman if questioned now would say it is dead.” ‘** Do you believe that, Captain Cuyler?” ‘*Since you hav@ discovered a resemblance between this portrait and Custer Kingdon, I can’t say that i do,” wasthereply. ‘‘ In search- ing Pappy Powder’s retreat, [ came across ample evidence of his marriage with Mother Scammon and of the birth of a son, though I accidentally discovered some time ago that the two were man and wife. They quarreled and separated, and the woman resisted all overtures for a reconciliation, Sbe afterward fell in with—” . ‘‘ Wat Waffles, alias Bolivar Betts!” broke in ick, ‘*Tt must be so from what Mollie has told me,” resumed the detective. ‘‘I shall look after Mr. Betts from this moment.” ‘* Por the murder of Pappy Powder?” ‘* Wor that and for a very deep game of hood- wink which he seems to be playing with Carlos Kingdon as a victim,” ‘* He’s a jail-bird!” said Dick, remembering what Pappy Powder had told him, ‘* We know his record,” smiled Cuyler. ‘‘ It isn’t without a blemish by any means. Mr. Waffles knows the inside of more than one cell and he isin a fair way toexamine another,” It was then agreed that Mollie should remain in the house while Dick and the detective crossed the river to pursue the trail which the latter said had been struck. The boy detective returned to his old quarters leaving Cuyler to find Wat Waffles whom he in tended to shadow until he had woven a net of evidence about the consummate scamp. But Wat was sharp enough—almost too sharp for the young Vidocq. Some-how-or-vther when he had seen his wife off for the usylum, he suddenly changed his quarters and with the change of location he put on other feathers which gave him quite a differ- ent appearance, Emboldened by the change he went to the station-bouse to which Cid Cuyler had escorted Mother S*:1mmon after her arrest and asked to see her, It happened taat a not over-cautious lieuten- ant of police was on duty, and Wat’s request was granted, Besides this, by the judicious ap- plication of a little gold in the right place, he was accorded the privilege of a private inter- view, after which he passed out unmolested and vanished. ‘* They don’t catch Mother Scammon for Buy thing,” chuckled Waffles as he walked off, ‘We'll come out of this little affair without a scratch, and the game will pan out as expected. They don’t catch weasels asleep—not of the sort lam, at any rate. I'll go down and see what the golden pigeon knows,” Carlos Kingdon was a late worker. Long after the last clerk had departed he could be found in the pleasant little up-stair’s office, as hard at work as at any hour during the day. Wat Waffles saw by a light in a certain win- dow that the broker was still down-town, and when he knocked at a door he was asked to en- ter in a cheery voice, Carlos Kingdon was alone, and the wary plot- ter, with his most pleasant face, was soon seated at the same table, asking after Custer’s health and prospects, ' ‘* We're going to have alittle breeze at home,” suddenly said the broker. ‘** Nothing serious, I hope?” *‘T think not. Cla’ ice has taken an aversion to my boy.” Waffles pretended to treat the matter lightly. ‘‘They’ll come closer to one another when better acquainted,” he laughed, *““T don’t know.” Kingdon shook his head, - ra I IT OO a et ences yy a or ne Tey Re Pt pert ke 4 pe ee Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. ‘‘ Clarice is resolute. I did not say much to her. She seems to have a secret of some kind which she would yet dare not impart.” Waffles felt a strange sensation at the roots of his hair, ‘*T want peace in the house,” continued the broker. ‘‘ They are both my children now, and one shall not suffer by the restoration of the other.” : ‘* Thatis right. Mr. Kingdon, did yon ever think tkat I might be hoodwinking you?” Carlos Kingdon’s look became a niomentary stare of amazement. ‘* Never for a moment, Betts,” he exclaimed. ‘**A man who has lengthened my life as you have couldn’t be an impostor if he tried, I know a good deal about human nature, and I uess I’m the last man who could be deceived. You thought you’d try me, eh?” ‘¢ Just a little,’ smiled Waffles. “If ma rascal, by Jupiter! I want to know it.” ‘“‘Ha, ba! that’s good!” laughed Kingdon. ‘ A good many rascals nowadays wouldn’t have their true characters known for the world.” “That's a fact,” admitted Waffles, knowing that he was one of those very fellows. ‘I’ve tried tolive a pretty honest life, but we all make mistakes,” “Of course. I will see that my boy doesn’t make very many as he grows to manhood. By the way [ caught him doing a strange thing yesterday.” ‘What was that?’ ‘‘ He was watching a lot of street Arabs play- ing marbles, If I hadn’t come up when I did I believe he would have joined them, I presume he used to play when with the Gypsies who had him a but the sun of Carlos Kingdon sha’n’t go back to the ways of the gutter-snipes of New York.” Waffles was inclined to laugh at the incident related by the broker, but Kingdon’s seriousness kept the laugh back, ‘I must post him better than that,” thought Wat. ‘It was the boy’s blood asserting itself. By Jove! he must have his wits about him when he goes out.” When Waffles had finished with Kingdon he went down upon the almost deserted street. ‘$1 wonder if the ola place is under lock and key?’ he thought. ‘* It wouldn’t do any harm for one to go down and look. Pappy Powder used to have money and he kept it in odd places, too. I think I can find the spot even in the dark,” The shrewd rascal soon reached the stone steps that led down to the picture gallery once occupied by the murdered man. He found the door ajar and the room be- yond stripped of every particle of furniture— probably taken by the owner for rent, A match showed him the pictures on the walls, the evil faces of criminals of all kinds and scenes of évery sort. ‘“‘Notbhing here! Cleaned out!” ejaculated Wat, but as he threw down his match he fell back with a startling cry. A man stood before him, blocking his way to the door! CHAPTER XIII, DICK AND TONY. WAFFLES wus like a 4 9 at bay. The man who was about his build was re- vealed by the faint lamplight which came down the cellar-way, and found an entrance through the door wide open. For a moment. the suddenly-discovered man eyed the apparition, and then he went forward like an unleashed bloodhound. The attack was not altogether unexpected, for the enemy braced himself, but Waffles land- ed upon him with a force great enough to throw him off his feet, and then a desperate struggle in the dark began. In the dark, we say, for the door, struck by Waffles, flew shut, wrapping the apartment in the densest gloom. Several minutes of bard work followed. The rascal from Gotbam found himself well- matched by the stranger, and bis best efforts were met and baffled almost’ before they were fully matured, At last Waffles got a grip on the enemy’s throat which could not be shaken off. _ In vain did the unknown try to squirm out of the terrible clutch which tightened all the time, and Wat felt that victory was within his grasp. 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