Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 669 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

ne ‘registered was not one woman into the house before which the carriage had stopped. They, the boys, were just in time to see this much, and the next moment the door closed after the men and their burden, Just then, too, Sam Foo Chow reminded them that their host was waiting to take formal leave of them, Tbe lads returned to the room, their friend motioned them to take their places in front of the seated dignitary, and they did so. The Consulate addressed them briefly, handed something to his interpreter, and when he had done, the interpreter said: ‘**In taking leave of you, the Gleat Consulate desires to give you something asa token of his esteem, and to leward you for the service you have lendered him. He gives to you this ling,” extending a ring to Broadway Billy, ‘‘ and hopes you will wear it to lemember this occa- sion. Ifhe can ever do any favor for you, he bids you to come and make it known to bim, Witb this he bids you good-by,” ‘** Accept my hearty thanks, Noble Sachem,” Billy responded, speaking direct to the Consulate, and putting on the ring as he did so; ‘‘I will wear th’ ring as you request, an’ I only wish that 1 bad somethin’ worth givin’ you in return, ‘You are a big chief, you are, an’ you deserve ter live long an’ be happy. I’m talkin’ fer my- self an’ Skinny too, ferhe is ruther bashful. I low it’s owin’ ter his thinness. If you ever come out ter New York, don’t fail ter call on us. With that he made his final salam, Skinny taking pattern as before and doing the same, and as soon asthe interpreter had passed the remarks over to the Consulate and the latter had waved his adieu, Sam Foo Chow led the way from the room, ‘**Melican boys been leceived bas with gleat- est honor, Not many mans come see Gleat Con- sulate leceive honor so gleat alleesame. ’Melican boy him keep ling, it be lespected allee same Chinaman by; makee ’Melican boy muchee fliends,” ** Sweet “apysetirs is that th’ fack?’ cried peek Py a sort of pene rp eden sted pie-tese on sight, eh? meanin’ no Bihoall k. If that is th’ ae you kin bet that Pll bang on ter it like grim death ter a defunct sou of Africa, Well, here’s my band, Sammy, old boy, seein’ that we must part. I hate ter be myself away, but th’ best o’ friends must r . By th’ way, which is th’ nearest cut to th’ —— Hotel?” Ms “*Melican boys don’t know way hotel to? their Celestial friend interrogated; “ allee same me send Chinaman show,” As it was by this time beginning to grow dark, Billy availed himself of the offer, anda servant was sent to pilot them to their hotel, ** Sweet pertaters! Skinny, but that was real white!” Billy had to exclaim as they set out. ** Who would ’a’ dreamed that we'd fall inter sich asnap? I begin ter believe that this trip of ours is bound ter mark th’ red-letter days of our lives. I do, Skinny, fer a fack, What with th’ pleasures of th’ voyage, an’ almost learnin’ ter be first-class sailors— But, there, I won’t say another word about that on your account, This is openin’ immense, thdugh, an’ if we don’t jest make Rome how! afore New York sees us ag’in, it will be ’cause it ain’t in us,” “Don’t your jaws never git tired?” Skinny naively asked, “Never knowed ’em ter git tired, did ye?” Billy demanded. ‘“ Fack is, Skinny, if [ didn’t talk there wouldn't be anytbing said, You're no | talker.” . I have never had a fair chance,” the thin partner declared. ‘* Never had a fair chance: how’s that?” **'You’ve allus got th’ fluor.” ** Shake!” Billy cried; ‘‘that’s one on me, TI own up ter th’ corn, Skinny. I will give yea chance now, though. I won't say another word till we reach th’ hotel, an’ you kin fire right abead, Hold on, though,” with a sudden recol- lection, ‘*I’d like ter know what that scream meant that we heard, an’ what that woman was beein’ tooken inter that house fer ag’in’ her will, That is somethin’ that I feel called upon ter investigate, Skinny. There may be a p’izen -_ But, altogether forgetful of the promise he had made, he rattled right on till they arrived renae not giving Skinny any chance to CHAPTER V. _ THE BROADWAY BILLY OF OLD. ° THE hotel at which gr and Skinny had of the great, first-class i ‘you are : Broadway Billy Abroad. order, like the boasted Palace Hotel on Market street. It was only a small, *tone-horse” affair, in comparison, but it was respectable, and it was located in a respectable neighborhood, It was plain and substantial, and its prices were not ** fancy.” By the time they reached there, as mentioned at the close of the previous chapter, it was dark, and after dismissing their guide they hastened to their room to prepare for supper. A thorough washing and combing made them ready, and in due course of time the evening meal had been disposed of, This hotel was run on the good, old-fashioned American plan, and as they came forth from the dining-room, where Billy had made things lively during the course of the meal, and had gained a score of new friends, Skinny asked: ‘* Well, and what now?” ‘You ask that as though you are ready fer anything that happens ter turn up,” Billy com- mented. ‘* And so Iam,” Skinny assured. ‘‘ No know- in’? what will turn up, either, an’ it is jest as likely ter be th’ hangman as not, fer by th’ way goin’ it you are bound ter come ter some ad end. Billy laughed heartily. ‘** Do you think it is as bad as that?” he asked. ** [certainly do,” Skinny declared. ‘* You was bad enough at home, but here you seem ter have jest let yerself loose, There is no holdin’ ye at all. I wouldn’t dare ter talk up ter folks like you do, an’ you’ll keep on till ye git inter trouble by it, you see if ye don’t,” ‘Jest as like as not,” Billy agreed, ‘ It wouldn’t s’prise me a bit. It is somethin’ that I can’t help, though, no more’n I kin help eatin’, nate th’ weeks that 1 was shut up on that shi ‘** An’ you had every sailor as crazy as a bed- bug all th’ time,” Skinny interrupted, “Their fault, not mine, my gay an’ festive ard, It is bound ter come out somehow, an’ it is best ter let it have its own course, like a case 0’ measles, Ye see [ have no business cares on my mind now, an’ am free as th’ wind, But, come, let’s go up ter our room, fer I have got an idee in mind.” “i hope it ain’t th’ fever a-gittin’ holt of ye ag’in, ‘Th’ detective fever, ye mean, Skinny?” ec Yes,” . , ‘*Well, that’s jest what it is, I felt it th’ minnit that I beard that woman scream while we was up there takin’ tea with old Ko-Ko, or whatever his name is. It is growin’ worse all th’ time, an’ I kiow it’s bound ter have its run, jest th’ same as my tongue is when it gits started, Can’t stop it nohow,” ‘*l wish we was back in New York.” Skinny appeared really distressed over the prospect of Billy’s setting out to bunt up adven- ture, and he felt greatly concerned, not know- ing what dangers his partner might run into, illy laughed at him, ‘You don’t want ter let sich fancies trouble yer brain, my gay an’ festive pard,” he remon- strated. ‘‘ Brain trouble is bound ter reduce th’ flesh, Skinny, an’ if you git any thinner than ye are i don’t know what Vll do ter keep track of ye. But, come up to th’ room an’ hear what my idee is.” ‘* I wish ye was so tired out that you’d be glad ter crawl inter bed at sight of it,” Skinny ob- served, regretfully. “ All of which I ain’t.” Billy led the way to their room, and when they were within, and the door had been closed, he proceeded to unfold his idea, ‘* Skinny,” be began, ‘‘ this year is about th’? last one of boyhood that you an’ me will ever see. Truth ter tell, we are past that interestin’ period now, but we kin still play off fer boys of fifteen if we want ter; leastwise I kin. These facks bein’ th’ case, I mean ter git all thef out of th’ fleetin’ moments that I kin, I’m goi ter crowd one string o’ fun an’ adventure clear from here to New York, an’ sich a big string, too, that I’)l remember this trip to my dyin’ day, ou’ll be foolish if you don’t do th’same, See what a royal beginnin’ we have made a’ready. ‘“What have ye got in mind, anyhow?” Skinny asked, | ‘Skinny, jest prick up yer ears an’ I'll unfold add a whole ounce ter yer weight. I reckon you've tooken notice of th’ sort o’ bootblacks that they have here, In fack [ know ye have, fer it was you that called my ’tention to ’em first. They ain’t free-an’-easy little chaps like we have in New York, but are men, all wearin’ uniforms, with their rows of easy chairs set up a a tale that will make ye smole a smile that will’ 5 on platforms under canvas awnings. Why, th’ sight of ’em would ’a’ made you an’ me turn green with envy, when we was knights of th’ box an’ brush. They are got up to th’ queen’s taste, an’ | reckon they would make it hot for any boy that dared ter set up oppersition to em in the good old way. D’ye begin ter see my idee?” **!'m afraid I do,’ Skinny admitted, ““Afraid ye do, fat pardner? What d’ye mean by that? I was in hopes that you’d kick up yer heels an’ dance th’ shadder-dance fer joy, an’ declare that you was with me in th’ racket, ’Fraid Vll hever be able ter make anything out of you, Skinny, unless I start a dime museum an’ set ye down on th’ bills as the livin’ skeleton. But, | am wanderin’ from th’ subjeck. In that trunk there is my old bootblack kit, an’ my old bootblack clothes. I’m goin’ ter don ’em, as they say in love stories, an’ ’m goin’ out ter paint this town red, Will ye join me?” “No, | won't!” Skinny declared, ‘I won't have anything ter do with sich business as that, If you want ter run th’ risk of gittin’ inter th’ lock-up, don’t think that I do, too, ‘*Thank ye fer yer frankness, Thinny; that allus was one good trait in yercharacter. I’m sorry that your Puritan idees debar ye from en- joyin’ a good slice o’ fun when it’s set afore ye, though. Well, if ye won't ye won’t, an’ I ain’t goin’ ter waste no valiy’ble time coaxin’ ye, I'll proceed ter don as aforesaid.” With that Billy unlocked his trunk and took out the things be required. There was his old box, with ‘BROADWAY BILLY ” on its side in bright, brass-head tack and his old bootblack clothes, even to an ol cap and a pair of old, loose-fitting shoes, Throwing off the clothes he had béen wearing, he put on these, and the transformation wrought wes wonderful, There stood the Broadway Billy of old, the original and unique bootblack bravo of our first story of this series, As this suit had originally been too big for him, it about fitted him now,and be surveyed himself in the glass with something of pride, “Sweet pertaters!” he exclaimed, ‘‘ but this Nn seoops th’ pie, ints an’ all! Here I be, kinny, th’ same old oy of old, an’, hang my stockin’, if { kin see that [ama day older, Th’ only thing out o’ place is that my face is too clean, but I kin soon fix that. There,” after taking a dirty rag from bis box and wiping his face with it, ** that improves my ’plexion ‘sider- ably. Ha, ba, ha! but I see a bushel o’ fun ahead, Skinny, an’ I only wish you’d join me an’ share it,” ‘Th’ only thing that I kin see ahead fer you, is a bed on th’ stone floor of th’ lock-up,” Skinny dolefully prophesied, ' ** You'd wind a wet blanket around my fond- est dreams, if I’d let ys do it, ye pin-legged wasp; but I won’t let ye do it, an’ that settles it. Sweet pertaters! but this takes me back ter old times, this does, an I feel as happy asa clam. Won't I jest make this town open its eyes when I sally out! But what are you goin’ ter do, my shadowy pard? Be ye goin’ ter stay here?” “No,” Skinny answered, ‘‘ fer if you really mean ter go out, Pll go along an’ see some of this fun that you promise.” ‘‘Ha! that’s th’ ticket, pard! Put it there! I'll give ye th’ worth of yer money, or me name is Mud. Now, let’s see, am I ready ter sally? Yes, I guess so, so turn out th’ gas an’ come along.” Skinny did as directed, and they left the room and descended to the bar-room and office, ‘Shine ’em up!” cried Billy, as he advanced with a business-like air; “‘make’em rival the full moon. Anybody have a shine? Put on a reg’lar New York coat o’ patent-leather, an’ it'll cost ye only th’ small trifle of a nickel. Speak up, gentlemen, but not all at once, an’ I'll make ye so proud o’ yer foundations that ‘ye won't want ter walk on’em, Shine ’em up!” This was something entirely new and novel, and all eyes were turned upon the boy immedi- ately, The night clerk, who had just come on duty, looked on speechless with amazement, ‘* What’s th’ matter?’ Billy demanded, as he rie! around coolly; ‘did anybody say any- thing?” At first no one had recognized him, but now some of those whom he bad amused at supper saw who he was, and lively remarks were made to all of which Billy responded briskly and wittily. “*See here,” the night-clerk presently demand- ed, ‘‘ who are you, anyhow?” ‘Who am I?” Billy repeated, turning to him; ‘‘why, Iam Broadway Billy, late from New (@) (alo) S 200