Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 639 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

~ 2»? - > ® - _? ¥ stil) flourishes. of New York City have tried to solve the mys- tery, but all to no purpose. The matter is get- - ting serious!” The scene was at the Grand Central Depot, and the speakers were two employees of the K. & Q. Railroad, The well-informed reader will | at once perceive that no road of that name has f a terminous at the Grand Central, but by the ‘ above initials it must figure in this record of a puzzling case. For obvious reasons tbe real name of the great railroad will be withbeld, While the two men talked they had an audi- tor, but one so insignificant—ino their opinion— that, while they would have refrained from speaking freely in the hearing of any aduit out- sider, they did not feel 1t necessary to be reserv- >, ed with him around. Moreover, a certain con- ry nection which he had for some time had with the K. & Q. made him seem about the same as an employee. This auditor was a lad of sixteen or seven- teen years, andif bis name had been requested of any one around the’station who knew him, the reply would have been “ Sunrise Saul.” The name was more in the line of Western ways thah those of the East, but it applied very well to him. He wasthe “‘ news-agent” on certain trains of the K. & Q.—in other words, he sold papers and books to the passengers. The employees moved away, and Saul heard ve no more from them, but they left him in a thoughtful mood. This was not the first time he had heard of robberies on the railroad. He was popular with the trainmen, and they had talked with him as freely as though he had been one of the *‘ crew,” and it was only the fact that there had been a fresh robbery that inter- ae + ested him. ‘, ‘‘ Queer!” he thought, seridusly. ‘‘I don’t see whois atit. Criminals have marked the road and are working it shrewdly. LHither they know the detectives who have been set to catch them, or else they are working in big luck, If Iran the road I should regard the case as right serious, and I presume that is just the way that the managers do look at it.” , He shifted his package of papers to his other arm, and turned his thoughts to his own affairs, . In ten minutes a train would leave the sta- Ma tion, and he wastogoupon it. It was one of ve the most important which went over the road, . being an Express, with but few stops by the way. Asaresult, it was well patronized, being n popular with business men and long-distance a travelers, . This on ae train bad given Saul his sob- riquet—it left at an early hour, and it was a common opinion that the lad had to be astir at A sunrise to get around with his pangs. As the train always left at the same hour, and the ris- ing of the sun was very irregular, this idea was open to criticism, but it went unchallenged, and all regular patrons knew ‘‘ Sunrise Saul.” A glance through the waiting-room showed re Saul that the train was to be well patronized bs, on this morning, and he was correspondingl ° pleased, An abundance of passengers meant good sale for his papers and books. hi Among the passengers-elect were two men + fal, who finally came and stood near Saul. ay ‘‘T wish you a pleasant journey, brother,” the | newsboy heard one observe. : ‘“ Thank’ee, sir,” was the reply; “it will be pleasant.” | _ “Have you ever been.in Boston before?” ** No, I ain’t.” “You will find it a rather pleasant town . albeit the streets of the business part make about f the worst jumble to be found anywhere, on ac- a count of numerous crooks and corners,” ‘ ‘‘T guess I kin get around.” _ ‘‘T would advise that you deliver the money into the hands of the Society at once, when you arrive at vour destination.” * “Ob! DT’ve got it safe in.my coat so that it te _ * gan’t git lost.” PS ‘‘ You must remember that there are some | very skillful pickpockets, confidence men and . general swiudlers in all our large cities.” 9 ‘‘T know, parson; | know; but they must git : up early in the mornin’ ter fool old Abner mht Plunket. It wa’n’t fur nothin’ that I was made i deacon o’ the Haybottom Church.” Be “| infer that your election to that position er was due to your sound theological views, and % geveral uprightness.” ‘ook ** That’s it, parson.” ; gM ‘*Well, to outwit rascals,one must have a good deal of wisdom which is of the purely worldly sort.” x ‘ve got that, too!” declared Mr. Plunket, | flashing. ! with unbounded confidence. Nee ee ee eee eee Some of the best detectives of | Sunrise Saul. ‘* Your brethren at Haybottom have raised this money with much effort, moved by the suf- ferings of the heathen in Africa, and it would be sad to have it lost. I presume you are a community of farmers?” ‘* That’s jest it, but—” “Then the amount was gained by most la- borious means, and you have a sacred trust, Look out “or the money!” ‘* Say, parson, d’ye think I can’t take keer o’ four hund’ud dollars?” demanded Abner Plunk- et, with some warmth, ‘My dear sir, I merely gave you a word of advice.” : ‘*You mustn’t think that, jest because you live in New York, an’ me in Connecticut, that I ain’t cut my eye-teeth! J’d like ter trade bosses with ye, parson—” ‘*Thank you, Mr. Plunket, but I have not questioned your proficiency in that line. Well, a word to the wise is sufficient. Having given that word, I will leave you. Good-by, bro- ther!” ‘* Good-by, parson, an’ good-luck be with ye.” The speakers shook hands and separated, the unnamed man leaving the depot. ‘*A city minister, and a countryman of the same denomination,” thought Sunrise Saul, who had been an attentive observer. ‘‘ Mr. Abner Plunket is inclined to be over-confiJent. Hope he won’t fall afoul of the train-workers, and get robbed!” The man from Haybottom did not look like one especially fitted for the task of looking out for Number One. He was, as sire: nces indi- cated, a man who had spent all his life in the rural districts. The color of his bands and face was a reddish brown, so deep that one might al- most wonder if he was of the Caucasian race, His hair was full to overflowing with hay-seed— this was a figurative fact. He was extremely Garp eae and green—this was a literal act. Having been left alone, he moved nearer to the gate, and another couple took his place, pausing where Sunrise. Saul could overhear their conversation. ® ; ey were an aged gentleman and a young ady. The former was a person of large frame and ouce powerful arms, but his days as an athlete were gone. Extreme old age and debility were upon him, He could still stand quite erect, but only for a brief time. Usually he leaned heav- ily upon a stout cane, and, even then, his limbs trembled. His hair anl beard were nearly white. His companion was small, young, bright and pretty. She had golden hair, and was a charm- ing young lady, to look at. *‘Grandfather,” she said, ‘‘ there are no va- cant seats here.” ‘¢ Never mind, Emmie,” was the reply; ‘* it is nearly time for the train to start.” ‘* But you ought not to stand; I will ask some one to rise and give you a seat.” **No, no; do nothing of the kind ny dear. The lack of a seat is but a small trouble.’ ‘** Poor grandfather!” sighed the girl. **Do you think we shall be in time, Emmie?” ‘**T hope so.” ** ‘You do not speak hopefully.” ‘*T have no means of knowing the probabili- ties in the case.” ‘* For once, traveling by rail will seem slow.” to Every hour will take us nearer to Uncle ‘* And take him nearer to his trial.” ‘* We will hope for the best,” | The old gentleman shook bis head slowly. _. ‘*At your age one is more hopeful than at mine, my dear. Young persons see the bright side of life, and are not to becast down. By the time one has lived to near four-score years he sees that, in the majority of cases, events do not transpire in accordance with his hopes, In this world we are more often disappointed than the reverse—but let me not discourage you, If I were the James Enonbridge of thirty years azo, 1 would not fear to grapple with this case. But I am old, old, old!” | The giri touched his wrinkled hand. **T will be your guide and your staff!” she murmured, softly. ‘* Bless you, Emmie—bless you! If Ralph is convicted, you will be all that is left to me.” ‘*He must not—shall not be convicted!” de- clared Emmie, with depth of feeling which sent fresh color to her pretty cheeks, Again Mr. E.aonbridge shook his head. ‘‘1’'m afraid you know but little of law.” ‘1 hate the law!” declared the gil, her eyes ‘Tf it were always just, it would be some- rr LL ED thing so grand that no praise could properly describe it; buta igen aap are often deceptive. In such cases, the law becomes a creature to be dreaded. It is so now.” ‘* Ralph is innocent!” Emrie asserted. ‘*] would swear to it, child.” : ‘*The man who arrested him was a wretch!” ‘*He was only the agent of others, We must not blame him, nor yet the prosecuting officers,” ‘* But think of our Ralph in prison!’ ‘*T do think of him. I can see the picture in my mind all too plainly; I can see my boy—the son of my old age—incarcerated in a eold cell, Just Heaven! it almost breaks my heart!” The white-haired old gentleman lifted his dis- engaged hand to his forehead, and pressed it there to deaden the pain he was enduring, ‘* We are going to his aid,” added Emmie, ‘*A young girl and a weak old man.” “ That does not mean that we shall fail.” ‘* We must not!” ** We shall not! Uncle Ralph shall be proven innocent—-I swear it!” CHAPTER II. A WILD WESTERN MAN EXPLAINS. THE doors wkich led to the big heart of the depot were thrown open, and the passengers moved forward. As Emmie made the last declaration, she had raised one hand as though also making solemn oath to what she said. However desperate might be the case of that Ralph Enonbridge who was in the grasp of the law, he could no but have felt encouraged and pleased if he had seen ber then. Even prison walls cannot make the sympathy of a pretty girl a matter of indifference to a young man, : SR Emmie quickly aroused, as she saw that the way was open to the train, ‘* Lat us hasten,” she advised. ‘* We want to secure seats on the left side of our car,” ‘¢ And why the left?” Enonbridge askéd. ‘* Because it is the cool side, being toward “ north. The sun beats in, upon the other side!’ ** ‘You have observed. closely; for one who has traveled so little.” ‘‘T use my eyes at all times.” ‘* And bright ones they are.” The old gentleman forgot his troubles for the time, and bent a loving look upon his compan- ion. Emmie was his only granddaughter, and he loved her next to his son. All of this conversation, up to the time when the doors were opened, had been heard by Sun- rise Saul. It was a small matter in his experi- ence. While in the depot, as well as on the train, he frequently heard such bits of conver- sation. A railroad sees romance and tragedy galore, Lovers on some pleasure-trip; newly-married couples on their bridal tours: men and women going to the death-bed or funera! of some dear friend. Sorrow, happiness, gayety, plot and ator Rad strangely all these are mixed on a rain Saul made his way to the Express with his papers, and for the time he forgot Mr. and Miss Enonbridge, as well-as the man from Haybot- tom, Connecticut. Ten minutes later, the train pulled out of the anes Central, and the travelers were fairly on, There was but little satisfaction to be gained from the journey until the Harlem was passed, but when they were at last on open ground, the newsboy set out to supply such of his customers as desired reading matter, First of all, he went through with his morning papers. Among the familiar faces he saw were some he had beheld that morning for the first time, A nasal voice arrested his progress in the mid- dle of one of the cars, ; ‘Say, boy, is there any partic’lar news this mornin’?” was the inquiry. | ‘* Lots of it,” Saul briefly replied. ‘* Hev you got a one cent paper?” ‘* Nothing short of two cents,” ‘*T spose I kin pay it. but two cents is a good ‘eal o? money ter put out fur sech nonsense—an’ I bought a paper only last week!” | The grumbler was Mr. Abner Plunket, and he bad a seat directly in front of Mr, Enonbridge and Emmie, The other half of the seat was without an occupant, other than ? rough traveling ‘‘ grip.” Abner went down for his money, and, after a vexatious delay, brought up the necessary two cents. He bought a paper, and Saul passed on. ae