Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 637 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

ee ee ee oe fles, when the door had closed upon Mother Scammon. ‘‘She never carries her notions very far—not far enough to cross me, because she knows that I hold her under my thumb. If Pappy Powder could have known of her where- abouts before he died she might have had a visi- tor, but the old man did not find her!” Instead of going to the ferry, as it was ex- pected she would do, the woman who had left Wat Waffles’s new abode turned in an opposite direction and went up-town. Not long afterward she appeared in the neigh- borhood of Carlos Kingdon’s abode, and finding the house without much difficulty she watched it with a curiosity which did not abate, Evidently Mother Scammon wanted to see the inside of the premises, for her interest took her up the steps, and before long she was listening at the door as if certain voices had caught her ear. All at once she left her steps and started off. ‘* 1’]] see him for my own satisfaction before long, whether Wat Waffles says so or not,” she exclaimed, as she moved off. ‘Il know of no erson who bas a better right to talk to him. ’m going to have my full share of the spoils, or know why not,” Eavoral minntcs later the woman in crossing the little park just beyond the Kingdon house heard a quick step behind her and as she turned she found berself face to face with a strange man and felt a hand of authority upon her arm. You are Margaret Scammon, sometimes ‘** Mother” Scammon, are you not?” asked the man, who saw the woman lose color under his searching look, “What if 1am?” asked the woman, ‘** We want you,” was the reply. It was probably not the first time the woman had been arrested, for almost immediately she put on a bold front and straightened brazenly in the stranger’s grip. “Td like to know what you want with me!” she exclaimed. * Your husband is dead.” ** My husband?” ‘‘ Yes, He has been murdered,” Mother Scammon started in spite of herself, ‘* You can’t play off by putting on a cool ex- terior,” continued the man, whose mien now proclaimed bim a detective. ‘* Pappy Powder has been choked to death, and as his runaway wife and one who hated him I arrest you for having a hand in the game.” The woman, now really alarmed, tried to speak, but the words seemed to stick in her throat, ‘‘ Come with me,” resumed the detective, ‘I am Cid Cuyler and am empowered to take you in charge.’ | Mother Scammon walked away like a person moving through the maze of some frightful dream. | She felt the hand of the detective cine aa into her flesh as it were and did not speak unti some distance bad been traversed. ‘‘ Where did they find him?” she suddenly in- quired, ‘*In his picture gallery lying on the floor.” ** Dead? 6é Dead 1!” ‘* Choked, did you say?” ‘“‘Choked to death! The marks of fingers were still to be seen when I viewed the corpse.” ‘You don’t stop to think that 7 may be inno- cent,” Cid Cuyler smiled. ‘*T am willing to take you to the station any- how,” he said, ‘‘If you can prove an alibi all right. You don’t deny that you were Pappy Powder’s wife although for many years you haven’t been a wife to him.” Mother Scammon made no reply, and for some time the detective regarded her in silence, ‘* What became of your boy?” Cuyler sudden- ly asked—so suddenly, indeed, that the woman uttered a sharp cry. ‘* My—boy?”’ she exclaimed, looking bewilder- ingly into the detective’s face, “Yes. Is he dead?” The woman’s countenance quickly changed. ‘*¢ Sea here! you don’t catch me in any of your traps!” cried she. ‘‘I deny that I ever had a boy. Prove it!” And with flashing eyes Mother Scammon marched on, like a person who had just won a victory. A few moments afterward she was locked up in the station on the most serious charge she had ever encountered. In searching her, a bunch of keys came to light, and were given to the young detective who had effected the arrest. Half an hour later, Cid Cuyler was on the ee ferry-boat moving toward the Jersey shore, and when he landed, he proceeded straight to the old house where, as we have seen, he released Mollie from the clutches of the chair, and fol- lowed her to the dark room only to find it empty, Dick Doan having fallen into another and a more perilous trap. i ae detective was not disposed to give up the unt, He had visited the house for the purpose of collecting evidence against Mother Scammon, whom he believed guilty of the murder of Pappy Powder; but hp was soon to learn his mistake, and strike the right trail by a strange discovery. CHAPTER XI. AN UNPLEASANT VISITOR. Mr. Wat WAFFLES, in the guise of Bolivar Betts, made a startling find early the next morn- ing. This was brought about by the perusal of a Deen while at breakfast. t informed bim that the murder of Pappy Powder had been discovered, and also that a woman named Margaret Scammon had been ar- rested on suspicion, The shrewd schemer seemed to choke while he read, What! Mother Scammon in the hands of the authorities charged with murder? It is no wonder that Wat finished bis meal in short order. His face showed agitation while he paid his score at the cashier’s desk, and he left the restaurant as soon as possible, The morning was not far advanced when Waffles met Custer Kingdon in the snug park near the broker’s home. ‘* ve been waiting for you,” exclaimed the boy. ‘* I have something to tell you. I have been watched.” ** Watched?” echoed Waffles, losing some color asa thought of impending di-aster crossed bis mind. ‘* Nothing less than that. Any other word won’t fit,” was the response. ‘Who has watched you!” “The girl—Clarice.” ‘‘ What makes her play spy? Who has raised: y a suspicion in her mind? ‘*T don’t know. She saw me at the desk and I gave her to understand in pretty plain terms that she had better keep a still tongue in her head,” “Well?” ‘‘ She seemed to believe that I wasn’t at any- thing crooked and thus I left her. She can’t turn Carlos Kingdon against me. He believes I am his son and every hour strengthens that be- lief, We're safe there, but I don’t like to be watched and I won’t stand it,” Tony’s eyes got a mad flash while he talked. ‘* What did you get for the common cause?” queried the schemer. The boy put one hand in his bosom and pro- duced a package which Waffles watched with delight, ‘** How much?” he asked with eagerness, *‘ Nearly a thousand, beside sone or two papers which I think have some importance.” **'You’re worth your weight in gold, boy!” cried Waffles, ‘* When you go back be sure not to get into another fracas with Clarice, You don’t know what may happen in the future,” ‘*She sha’n’t watch me!” exclaimed Tony, or Custer Kingdon, shutting his hands. ‘If she does it again Vll—yes, [ll choke her!” ‘* Nothing of the kind,” admonished Waffles, ‘“*Wecan’t afford to imperil everything by a little display of temper. They’ve picked up Mother Scammon, but the old lady won’t talk to suit them.” ‘‘ What did they pick her up for?” ‘‘ Haven’t you read this morning’s papers?” ¢é No.” : ‘Well, an old fellow, known as Pappy Pow der, was found dead on the floor of his basement hovel, and as he and Mother Scammon used to be acquainted, a smart detective, named Cid Cuyler, ran her down for the deed, ‘* But she didn’t do it, did she?” **T guess not.” Tony remained silent for a moment. ** She’s pretty tricky from what I, know of her, but I can’t put murder at her door. I won’t gothat far. If the dead wretch didn’t deserve what he got [ hope they will catch the right person and hanz him higher than Haman.” Wat Woaffles gave a quick start at the boy’s emphasis, but Tony did not seem to see it, as he continued: Dick Doan, the Dock Boy Detective. 9 ** Where is Mother Scammon now?” ‘* At thestation, She is likely to be in jail by night.” ‘Won’t they make her ‘talk? ” ‘Td like to see’em! <A shrewd bird like her?” And Waffles laughed derisively. ‘' I’m not afraid of her giving our ganie away. She don't intend to kill the goose that lays a golden egg, just because she’s ina pickle, They can’t prove anything against her, because her hands are clean, ‘*[?’'m glad of that,” smiled the boy. ‘But I must be going back, When will you be here again?” ** To-morrow, night, at nine.” ‘** 1 won’t forget.” As Tony moved away, going toward the broker's house, he was watched closely by Wat Waffles until he mounted the steps, and disap- peared beyond the door, * “The game is paying,” exclaimed the rascal to himself as he turned away, ‘‘ A thousand in cash, with some important papers, don’t consti- tute a bad haul. The boy mustn’t cross the irl, ‘She’s got a wonderful grip on Carlos <ingdon, and we can scoop the whole fortune by Tony marrying her. If she gets an aver- sion to bim the jig may be up, for she is as knowing as she is pretty.” Not far behind Wat Waffles walked a wo- man, whose features were hidden by a vail. She hada quick and nervous tread, and the sharp, black eyes that sparkled beneath the vail never Jost sight of Waffles for a moment. When the rascal turned into the street where he was known as Bolivar Betts, he still had the mysterious creature at his heels, and shortly after he ascended the stairs leading to his lodg- ings, the strange woman climbed them too, Bower to investigate the contents of the pack- age which he had received from Tony, Waffles turned on the gas and relieved bis pocket of the treasure. His eyes danced at sight of the crisp bank- notes, and in a moment he was immersed in the documents that accompanied them. Suddenly the consummate scoundrel looked up, and saw standing before him the strange spy, With her vail thrown back, and a glitter in the depths of ber eyes. Wat Waffles turned all colors in the space of half a minute. The papers fell from bis hands into his lap, and then quitting his chair, with a bound he started toward the woman, crying: ‘* In God’s name, what brings you here?” The plotter’s visitor stepped forward and led to touch him with her hand, but he fell ack. “You didn’t expect me? Ha, ha)! of course not,” said she. ‘* Asa rule, these insane asy- lums hold their victims until the grave hides them forever. I’ve lost what little beauty I had, but all thesame I am still your wife, though I ought to be ashamed to say it stand- ing here, I have been ‘Mad Meg’ so long that [nearly forgot my true identity. You don’t seem to want me just now.” During the woman’s speech Wat Waffles had thought with surprising rapidity. He was alone with the creature who bad it in ber power to baffle him in his game for a for- tune, He knew that sbe was not mad, that her im- murement in the asylum was the result ofa deep scheme of his, but here she was—at large, and still bis wife asshe bad just told him in plain English! ‘““T was asking about you last week,” said Waffles, in conciliatory tones, ‘* Doctor’ Dabus said you were improving, though he gave me no reason to hope that yeu would be ott so soon. I’m glad you’ve come, though you don’t find me very well situated to take in company,” “No, that I don’t,” returned the woman, glancing round the room, but in a moment her eyes came back to Waffles and to the money and papers onthe table, ‘“You seem to be prospering,” she said, with a sinile, ‘Not much, I’m only comfortably situated.” answered Wat. ‘“‘When did you leave the lace?” ‘‘T’ve been out some time, They’re looking for me, too.” ‘‘ Ah! you ran away?” ‘*T did!” And before he could reply she step- ped nearer still and leaned toward him with flashing eves. ‘‘ Do you want to send me back?” ** No, why should [? His manner of speech appeared to allay Mad Meg’s suspicions, ‘““You’ve madea fine play, though, haven't you?” she laughed. ‘They say you've found . ’