Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 637 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

ae ee oe Ce The last sound she heard was the boy’s laugh as it rung triumphantly in her ears, Mother Scammon had barely got out of sight ere a carriage landed a gentleman in front of the station-house, He glanced at his waich as he crossed the side- walk and entered the building with a quick and nervous step. ‘“‘T am Carlos Iingdon,” said he to the sergeant. ‘‘Is the boy here yet?” ** He is.” ‘*1'd like to see him, Please be quick about it; my time is limited.” Dick was again sent for at once. The moment be appeared in the office King- don’s eyes became riveted upon him, A strange pallor seemed to overspread the broker’s face. ** Does he look different by daylight?” queried the police sergeant, ** He does,” said Kingdon. ‘Is this the boy { sent the officers after?” ad ‘* He’s the chap O’Keefe fetched in last night.” **’m the boy,” exclaimed Dick stepping for- ward. ‘*There’s no mistake I assure you, Mr, Kingdon,” ‘* What’s your name?” ** Dick Doan,” ‘* Come here,” The boy shadow of the docks went nearer still; the hand of Kingdon crept forward and took his arm, ‘**T don’t want to think some things, but by heavens you make me,” he exclaimed, looking down into Dick’s upturned face. ‘‘I used to see eyes like yours but it was many a long day ago. Who knows anything about you as a youngster?’ , ‘* Jimmy Callister for one, sir.” ** Who is Jimmy Callister?” ‘* He is a member of the regulars,” replied the sergeant answering for Dick and taking the words out of his mouth, ‘* Where is he?” ‘* He won’t be found on duty now.” ** Where does he live?” The sergeant gave the necessary direction. ‘“‘] withdraw my charges against this boy,” continued Kingdon. “ You won’t hold him any longer, will you?’ ‘© No, sir.” Three minutes afterward Dick Doan was an occupant of a carriage with Carlos Kingdon on the opposite seat looking at him like a man in a maze, It need not be thought that the boy’s tongue was still, While the vehicle rattled out of one street and into another Dick was relating a story in which the broker appeared deeply interested. ** If all that is true I have been the victim of the deepest plot I ever heard of,” said he, ‘* It is almost more than a person can believe. Mother Scammon must have followed me into my office for she was there almost as soon as I was. She told me the boy arrested by O'Keefe was hers and begged me to let the law take its course without any personal prosecution, I agreed to do t-is; but she had not been gone long ere I became suspicious, I suppose she went to the station to make sure that you were there, She is a cool, designing woman, if but one half you have told me about her is true. She is a fit companion for Wat Waffles, who must be found. But we'll soon see Jimmy Cal- lister the policeman who says he fished you out of the water some years ago, After that we may make another move,” The red-whiskered ‘‘ cop” was found at home in the midst of an interesting family. ‘Wat did I tell you?” he exclaimed glancing from Dick to the broker, ‘ Didn’t I say you looked like the boy what disappeared a good many years ago?” Dick merely looked at Kingdon and said nothing. For two hours O’Keefe and the broker were closeted together. ‘*Didn’t you tell me that Custer is to meet some one in the Park to-night?” Kingdon in- quired while the carriage was rattling again over the streets of Gotham, ‘* He is to meet Wat Waffles at that place.” The broker was silent fur a moment. ‘**'We won’t need Cuyler the detective,” said he. ‘I think we can match this wolf who has played so well in sheep’s clothing,” ‘“‘Tlido my share. [ owe Wat Waffles one for several tricks which I have not forgotten.” At eight o’clock, after the lighting of the street Jamps, a boy who did not resemble Dick 0’ the Docks in outward appearance entered the little Park from the west. Passing almost across the Park he turned and |. ee ng By eS ey 14 Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. came back to the center where just as he was about to seat bimself on one of the settees he was seized from behind and borne rapidly to- ward the deep shadows of some bushes, The hands that beld him seemed to possess the gripping qualities of eagle talons, @ was ea tirely helpless in their power. All at once the figure of a woman sprung toward him, and before be could fairly recog- nize her, a cloth was threwn over bis head, and drawn tightly under bis chin. Dick gasped and struggled for a moment; then his brain seemed to swim, and the last thought he had was that he had fallen into the merciless clutches of Wat Waffles and Motber Scammon, as precious a pair of rascals as ever plied their bailing in Gotham, CHAPTER XVIII. SCORE ONE FOR JUSTICE. WHEN the pair found their victim unconscious, thanks to the cloth, they hustled him through the most shaded portion of the Park, and pushed him into a cab which stood in the gutter, appar- ently waiting for them, The cab rattling away carried Dick and his captors out of sight. nseen? No, It happened—it was more luck than anything else—that a man witnessed the departure of the cab. He caught a glimpse of Waffles that seemed to make his eyes sparkle. ‘Found at last, eh?” chuckled this man, who was none other than our friend, Cid Cuyler, the detective. ‘‘ You can’t keep your fingers out of mischief, can you, Mr. Waffles, alias Betts and half a dozen other names?” The following moment another cab, hurriedly pressed into service, was traveling in the wake of the first one. It made the same turns as the foremost one, and when Waffles’s’ vehicle bowled into a narrow street that had the ap- pearance of an alley, Cuyler’s driver drew up and the detective jumped out, Secreting himself in the shadow of a building he saw Waffles and Mother Scammon help their risoner into a house, and heard the door shut like the door of a prison, ‘* Into another trap, but this is not the Jersey City house,” said Cuyler to himself, ‘It may have deadfalls and trap-doors, all the same, No doubt it is Waffles’s new haunt, but Cid Cuyler, the man he choked into unconsciousness at Pap- py Powder’s, is likely to get even for that little diversion.” The detective continued to watch the house until Waffles came out and re-entered the cab, which had waited for hima few feet from the step. ** Back to the Park, no doubt. You want to see Tony, don’t you, Waffles? I know of no better place to block your game,” And Cuyler started off, following the city fox as before, and alighting with him in the Park near Carlos Kingdon’s residence, There was eagerness and elasticity in the rogue’s movements now. He acted like a man who had just achieved a decided success, and ayer took great delight in watching him, resently he saw a well-built youth join Waf- ay where the light of the Park lamps did not fall. It was Tony. Slipping forward with the caution of thealert detective, Cuyler endeavored to catch the low words which the couple exchanged. ‘*T can’t get at anyahing more,” said Tony. ‘¢ The suspicions of Clarice have been imparted to him, I felt like choking tke girl a while ago, she looked at me so ge tngercten asif to say: ‘The jigisup. We are at the bottom of the scheme,’ Ever since Carlos Kingdon caused the boy to be released he isn’t the same man, though he tries to make me think otherwise.” ‘* Pish! they have no proof!” laughed Waffles, ‘¢ We have just removed the main witness, and in a short time it will be plain sailing again.” Tony shook his head doubtingly. ‘‘Tf I could think so ’d go back ana play it out, but I can’t,” he said. ‘*You must!’ commanded Waffles. ‘* Why, boy, Kingdon is worth three millions!” ** What good will they do me.if they prove me an impostor?” “They can’t prove that, I say,” was the re- sponse, Tony made no reply. ‘* You must go back and continue the game,” resumed Waffles. ‘I'll stand between you and failure.” / ** You will?’ asked the boy with a smile. sé Yes,” ‘* What if they should nab you?” = Waffles seemed to start at this question. ~ ~ ‘* But they won’t,” he declared, reassuringly. ~ “T’ve changed my nest and my feathers too, as you see, I don’t trot about on my feet any more. I bave a cab at my disposal and a man whom [ can trust—an old chum who knows nothing but silence. I’m going back now. Play your part well. Itl all come right, Keep your bands off the girl, no matter what she does, To-morrow night at nine come here, I will have some news.” Wat Waffles came toward the carriage he had left in the gutter. There followed a figure at his heels—the figure of Dick Doan’s friend, the detective! ‘‘ Straight to number eighty,” said the villain to theman onthe seat as he gathered up the lines, The cab door had not closed on Waffles when a foot not his pressed the step. ‘¢ Three hundred Mulberry street, driver,” said a voice that sent a cold chill to Waffles’s heart, and, at the same time, the door closed and a hand fell upon tke plotter’s wrist, For a moment Wat Wefflessat upright like a person rudely awakened from a nightmare, He felt that he was under arrest, that the end of the game had been reached, and the horror of the situation appeared to rivet him to the seat, The carriage instead of moving off at the last command stood stock still in the gutter. ‘* Your Jehu won’t obey me, Waffles,” said the same voice. ‘* Will you issue the same com- mand, or shall we go to 800 Mulberry by a more public route?” Waffles, white asa shroud, fairly ground bis teeth, He knew he had been caught by Cuyler, the detective, a man whom he thought he bad killed at Pappy Powder’s. ; ) Already there wasa manacle at his wrist. Waffles felt the cold steel and shivered. ‘‘ Drive as the gentleman has ordered, Butler,” said he, and away went the horses, restless under the whip. Ten minutes later Cuyler left the sly old fox in a cell in the police-station, The detective looked like a man confident of victory. He went straight to the house in the narrow street, and his ring brought Mother Scammon to the door, ‘‘ Heavens!” cried the woman growing white as she fell back. ‘tI thought—” ‘‘That I was Wat Weffles, eh?” interrupted Cuyler, slipping a steel bracelet over the band that looked so tempting. ‘‘ Where is the boy?” ‘¢ What boy?” ‘* Come, Margaret Scammon, I am no fool!” laughed the detective, ‘‘ The boy or the longest term the courts can give you!” This threat was enough to dispel the woman’s bravado, and, from a dark underground apart- ment which if Cuyler had not come to the rescue would have proved his tomb, came the Dock Boy Detective. Before Tony could be detained by Kingdon, who was anxious to hold him asa witness against Waffles, be suddenly disappeared and the most diligent search failed to find bim. Waffles and Mother Scammon got their just deserts—the former for the murder of Pappy Po%der—who knew him only too well for the old man’s good—and the woman for fraud. Waffles made a confession which strengthened the prevailing belief that Dick Doan was the real Kingdon heir and a bit of shrewd work by Cuyler confirmed this to the satisfaction of the broker. As amatter of course Dick moved into his new quarters, but not until he had placed Mollie in another home. Clarice Kingdon, who had a lover when Tony first appeared, has since married, and Cid Cuyler is authority for the statement that Custer Kingdon—once Dick o’ the Docks—will, in due course of time, take Mollie, his friend in the days of poverty, to a home than which there is not a banpier in New York. One day this same lynx Cuyler thought he saw Tony, but the glimpse was so meager that he failed to satisify kimself, and the boy who, for awhile, was heir to millions is still missing. No doubt he is Mother Scammon’s son, but the woman denies it, and nobody seems to care to whom he owes his existence, Tommy Topp, the cripple of Uncle Noll’s Nest was surprised to learn of Dick’s identity, an nearly every warm day sees Carlos Kingdon’s heir carrying a boy up and down the steps of a house that looks like a palace, THE END, ~ “ ee me - eS