Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 767 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

oe lial Mac and Jac PNow, ye see, if you had a little screw t’ ro on Mr. Fulton, ye could bring him down a " peg.” Mr. Ward shook his head with drunken gravity. ‘*He’s too careful; don’t give no chance t’ get a grip on him,” be said, with sucb sincere re- gret that Mac was puzzled and disappointed. ‘How about women, Mr, Ward—is he mar- ried?” Mr, Ward started, and exclaimed: “ By gum, that was funny! Il wonder if there was anythin’ in it?” “That’s right!” encouraged Mac, “If ye can fix up a vice Jittle story: I'll show ye bow t’ bring him round,” **Ob, there ain’t no fixin’ about it,” returned Ward, ‘“‘and I don’t know what it’s worth, but here it is: ‘*The day before he went away, the boss told me that on a certain day one 0’ the ladies—Miss Barret, would want t’ drive t’ Brooklyn, and that as soon as she went in, [ was t’ drive away. ‘ That’s about all of it, except that it must be queer business to bring a lady like Miss Barret t’such ashanty. It looked like a ha’nted house,” Mac listened in amazement, for he had felt certain that Eunice was in some quiet country place, and could scarcely conceal his eagerness, as he asked: ‘** Remember where the house was? I’ll have to be able to give him the exact points, ye know,” This looked plausible, and Mr. Ward did not "hesitate about giving the much desired informa- tion, ** It’s in —— street, a half-mile, or more, from Fulton Ferry. A tumblje-down frame house, which, as I said before, looks as if it was ha’nt- ed. I’ve got the number of a house near it, and that’ll be close enough to fetch bim.” A search in a greasy note-book revealed the number, and then Mr. Mulligan departed—“ to bring Mr, Fulton down a peg.” As he passed out of the saloon, Mac saw Sam the messenger-boy peeping in at the window, and guessing the latter had some information for him, revealed himself, ‘Joe said t’ tell ye that Herman’s back, and that bim ’n’ Fulton’s been growlin’ at each other all the afternoon,” was Sam’s story. ‘*Humph! Seems as if all the birds’d be back ' t? the roost at the same time,” commented Mac. ** Anythin’ else, Sam?” ** No, sir.” It was nearly night, now, (for Mr. Ward bad & very bard head, and it had required a great deal of oil to loosen his tongue,) and after a mo- ment’s deliberation, Mac decided to take Sam to Brooklyn, The house was quickly located—there could be no mistaking it, and its appearance fully justi- fied the coachman’s words, A few words uttered in a neighboring saloon, brought forth the information that in years no one had been known to enter or leave the ‘* haunted house,” although it was certainly oc- cupied, for a grocer’s boy came two or three times a week with provisions, but he never got any furtber than the basement door, and could tell nothing except that his basket was received by a sour-looking, aged female. That such a house, in so densely populated a neighborhood, should remain an Aaah wae mys- tery, seemed queer, but so it was—and so it re- mains to this day! At the moment of writing, the front still re- mains, 4s it has been for years, unpainted; the wooden stoop a wreck; the iron basement gate missing; the windows and shutters smashed in a dozen places—but it is tenanted, and several lines of cars pass the once white-painted door, to which is still fastened a rusty, old-fashioned knocker, Sam now came in very bandy. His uniform secured bim adunission pretty near every where— from the church to the card-table in the gam- bling den, an‘ Mac thought he would try its effect on the ‘‘ haunted house,” Addressing an envelope to ‘ Miss Eunice Bar- ret, No.—, street, Brooklyn,’ he handed it to Sam, saying: ‘She's there, and you know it, because Mr. George Fulton sent you, and that letter is to be delivered to her personally. “You, probably, won’t be let in, and, likely as not, won’t see her, but, if she should get to the door, cover whoever comes with her, with this revolyer—and shout!” . ** Yes, sir—I understand.” _Following close behind the messenger-boy Mac saw him go dewn the basement steps, a heard bim hammer on the door. Then came the angry tones of a woman, de- | + { manding what was wanted, the bold reply of the boy, and again the woman’s voice in the one word: ** Wait!” The listener’s heart leaped, as he crouched be- side the stoop, and prepared to clear the railing into the basement. Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes like hours, until the door opened again, and then came the summons: “Jump! Quick!” CHAPTER XXV, THE CLOSING OF THE NET, THE instant Sam shouted, Mac was behind in the basement. In front of bim stood the sour- looking female, and behind ber Eunice Barret— both looking somewhat astonished! ** What does this mean?” indignantly demand- ed the former, ‘* It m’anes, ma’am, that Miss Barret’s wanted in Noo York,” replied Mac. ‘* But, this boy said he bad a letter for her!” ‘* Yis, ma’am; thrue for ye, an’ that’s phot’s in the letter,” ** How do you know?” ** Oh, faith, ma'am, I kem along wud it, but the people ’round here arr so bad-minded, the’ said I’d never have a chance t? deliver me mes- sage, 80, I had t’ get this b’y, d’ye see.” ‘That’s it, is it? ‘* Well, miss, I suppose you must go—but re- member your promise.” ‘*T shall not forget, madam,” quietly replied Eunice, as she turned away. Fearing be might lose ber, and a little curious to obtain a glimpse of the interior of this strange house, Mac asked; ¢ ‘* Shall we wait here, ma’am?”’ ‘* Uncless you prefer the sidewalk,” was the prompt and chilling reply. ‘*T guess we'll stay here,” returned Mac, sal ¢ ‘** As you please,” In afew minutes, Eunice returned to the base- ment, and with a quiet ‘‘ good-night,” passed out into the street, unconscious—as it proved— that she had left what was meant to be at least a temporary prison, But that sbe had recognized the ‘ hod-car- rier’s” voice, Eunice informed him that she would not have left the haunted house, and was amazed on learning, as the three rode to New York, that it was through Fulton’s macbina- tions she bad gone there, “Why, [received a telegram, apparently from mother,” sbe explained, ‘ telling me to meet her and Uncle Robert at that house, and I was not allowed up-stairs until I had promised not to speak of anything I might see.” ‘* And ye saw—?” ‘*Many things,” quietly replied Eunice, and that killed Mac’s curiosity, ‘Will ye got’ a fri’nd’s or some hotel?” he asked, after a short silence, adding: ‘* Uv coorse, it won’t do t’ alarm him, yit, but sthill that gintleman’s comin’ fast t’ the ind uv his rope, an’ it won’t do t’? thrusth him too much,’ ‘“‘T hardly know where to go,” replied Eunice, **T suppose it’s batter to go tosome hotel, Friends will talk,” ‘Ye’r’ right, ma’am!” commended the ‘ hod- a nig and then, another idea occurring to m: _*T live with a nice, 5 ga old lady, an’if ye ike the id’a, ye could sthop there for a day or wo. : Eunice eagerly adopted this plan, and as the carriage stopped, Mac said: ‘Yell just be me niece, and this n’y is yer brother, Miss Barret, He'll stay and look for ye, for this man is liable to do anythin’,” Eusice made no objection to this, and having laced her in the care of his landlady and Sam, ac hurried to ascertain if there was word from Austin or Lewis, He found a note from each—the first contain- ing just three words, “ Jack—back—to-morrow.” Doctor Lewis’s message also was brief: ‘Come at once—Blank’s Hotel, West Farms.” ‘‘He’s found bim!” exclaimed Mac, and in- eekly started for the hotel, where he met the octor, “ Well, what luck?” asked the “‘ hod-carrier,” or rather coachman, for he had not stopped to change his disguise, “Eh? What do you mean, sir?” stiffly de- manded Lewis, ‘* Faith, 1 dunno, sir, mebbe—” k, the Invincibles. , é “ — “ Thank God!” fervently exclaimed the young physician, adding: ‘**] was beginning to fear that my message had miscarried,” ‘*Come, let us goto a room where we cam talk. We must stay here to-night, anyhow.” The doctor was ina highly excited state, and this confirmed Mac’s impression. Nor was he mistaken, ‘* ve discovered him,” averred Lewis, almost. as soon as they were alone, “As you may know,” be continued, ‘‘I am writing a treatise—a book—on insanity—as alf experts do,” (There was scorn and self-reproach to po smal) extent in the last words.) ‘Well, the fact that this wonderful hook is on the road to publication, is well known, aud” imodesty;) ‘lam beginning to be known my- self, ‘This saved much trouble—that you, or any other stranger, would bave encountered, and besides, old Doctor Goodheart, who bad charge of Mr. Barret first, gave me a valuable hint— telling me tbat, instead of going toward the city, the carriage was driven further out. ** Well, to cutit short, I found bim in Salter’s Sanitarium—a place I’ve long suspected of not being what it should, abeve all other places, be— honest. ‘*T was looking for peculiar cases, you see, and, not baving seen the original commitment, Mr, Salter was unaware of the fact that 1 was oue of the experts that caused it to be issued; so. Mr. Barret was exbibited as a most peculiar case,” ** How does he look?” ‘* Well, if it were not for meeting a big fellow of the name of Kelly—Andy Kelly, he calls bim- self—I would say he was insane, but this fellow was formerly an attendant in the Sanitarium, and assures me that Mr, Barret is sane as you or I—or was until a few days ago,” At that moment there was a knock on the door, and Mr, ‘** Andy Kelly ” entered, CHAPTER XXVI, DOG EAT DOG, THE evening after the finding of Eunice and Robert Barret, Mr, Fulton and Herman, the valet, are seated in the room of the former in the Barret man- sion. I]l news travels fast, and the valet is saying: “Tt looks to me as if the last card was played ‘*Eunice Barret is free, and, of course, with that detective. Robert Barret bas in some mys- terious way got out of that asylum, and our dummy has been stolen ! ‘* T can’t see that there is anything to be done, —<e get all we can and skip. “ ** 'You’ve got Miss Emily and can raise a couple hundred thousand, so, I can’t see why both of you shouldn’t be glad to quit. You were only a clerk—though a distant relative—and she a vari- ety actress who resembled Miss Barret—and both of you have bad more out of this than me, ** What do you say? Shall we skip?” There was something threateningly suggestive of ‘*State’s evidence” in Herman’s tone, but, making no sign of having noticed it, Fulton re- lied: a: I hardly know what to do, It’: odd, that they’ve made nomove yet. How long d’ye think we’ve got, Herman?” **Tt’s hard tosay. They might be too fright- ened to stir for a day or two, and then, again, they are liable to come any time.” ‘* Well, I can’t do anything to-night, toward raising funds, so we’il have to wait until t.-mor- row moroving,. ; ‘* And, now, 1 must have time to think, Her- man. Come back in an hour.” ‘Allright, sir, Dil be back in an hour,” re- plied the valet, with a triumphant smile, Alone, Fulton arese and began pacing the floor, talking to himself—a bad habit, especially so, it proved for him, ‘* ve got nearly a quarter of a million in that. package in my trunk. It’s lucky I decided to make it up before leaving the office, ‘““With that mueh, Il] be pretty easy in Belgium—and— Yes, I'll take Emily; sbe’ll be useful, but that scoundrel Herman is becoming Ganggeoae, We'll start to-night, but he'll stay e Then, having decided on the course to be pur- sued, Mr. Fulton sat down and lighted a cigar, while Herman, whose ear bad been glued to the we quietly walked up-stairs mutterin quarter of a million, and J stay hove! thn: | afraid not, Mr, Fulton, I’m afraid not! |The chances are that the fair Emily will go with me — a 1s “4 . 0) micbooks.c nS. * ae oh _ .*¢, *