Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 850 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

f was not long — ‘would ’a’ stayed ef I hadn’t climbed upa ladder, got inter the loft an’ helped him.” ** Why did you climb up a ladder?” ‘** Becuuse the doors was locked.” ** You found the stable locked and went in by aladder,eh? How dared you do that? Don't ou know that was a penal offense? It was Paccnlcters and entering, boy.” Caleb was beginning to lose Lis usual good huzsor, | ‘*Seoms ter me you’re hard ter suit!” he re- torted. ‘* D’ye want this young infant ter stay locked up in that measly hole?” ‘**[ want him to stay away entirely, and 1 want youto know your place!” retorted Proc- torham, asintemperatelyas before. ‘* You had no more right to enter my stable as you did than you would have to enter my sleeping-room at night.” ‘* Ef you remember, you tol’ me ter do a sar- tain job, Mr. Proctorham, an’ the only way fur me ter do it, when I found the stable locked, was ter get the tools jest as I set out ter do.” ‘*That is no excuse, and I cannot tolerate such work. You are no longer in my ser- ‘-vice!” és He 9”) ‘** I discharge you!” “Oh! you do!” ‘* Yes, 1 do! And, what is more, the police shall look into this case, I will say, frankly, that I do not believe a word of your story. That unknown men could bring a boy here and lock him up in my stable—even if they wanted to, which they certainly would not—is absurd, I shall call a policeman and give you both in charge!” Caleb was dumfounded. He knew that Proc- torham wasa hard man to deal with, but this was more than he had expected, **is this the way you deal .with your hired help ?’ he returned, quickly. ** You are no longer in myservice; I have dis- charged you; but 1 will say that when my hired help descend to robbing me, they get arrested. I will call a policeman at once!” He started down the path to the street, while Cinders, still holding Allan’s hand, looked after him in bewi/derment. It would not take long to callan officer, and then, plainly, the two boys would be arrested. Little Garland was crying harder than ever, for stern and savaye Eving Proctorbam had frightened him almost out of his wits; but, after a moment, a flush of indignation Colored Caleb’s cheeks, and a sparkle of defiance showed in his eyes, i: Hey us arrested, will he?” cried the youth, ** Wal, mebbe he will, but he’s got ter ketch us, first. We will run, that’s what we'll do!” ** He will stop us if we go that way.” ‘* We ain’t goin’that way; 1 don’t know of a worse place ter hide than in the streets. Mister Man thinks be’s got us foul, an’ that we can’t get out no way except the way he’s gone. We'll show him! Come on!” Grasping Allan’s hand tightly he hurried him along toward the rear of the grounds. There was a high fence at that point, and an intricate area beyond, and a person of mature years would have despaired of escaping by such an avenue; but to a boy all places are open and ca- pable of being traversed, Caleb did not intend to get locked up, The ladder which had once before been so use- ful to him was again brought into use, He leaned it against the high fence, and after con- siderable trouble he and his charge reached the other side. Théir troubles were not over, for other houses and other yards surrounded them, but Cinders ‘knew of the nooks and crevices as well as the cats and dogs of the block did; and, after a surprising scramble through holes end hedges, over fencesand through fences, they reached the next street. ‘So fur, good, but we ain’t safe yet,” the guidecommented. ‘‘Weare now reg’lar cast- aways. Weain’t cot no heavin’ seas an’ rollin’ billers under us, like nautikel sailors hev, but we're castawaysin the big city 0’? New York. You’re lost, an’ I’m out o’ a job. Melancholy sittervation! How a philanthropast would weep fur us—ef he had time! Come on, feller- castaway, an’ I'll show yea harbor whar we kir oh anchor fur a period o’ time!” : The ** Caeerey * had not beerecomentng his efforts to words, but while he spoke in the whim- sical fashion peculiar to him, bad been hurrying Allan ee. He had decided to take him to the same place before considered as a refuge, and the journey ork men have strange bed-fellows, In New t_spec we — ss ai 03 —— =~ --— ——--— —_- —__ and the change from wealth to poverty is often surprising. One block may be the abode of aristocrats; the next that of the humble poor, In no other city in America will an observing traveler see more abrupt and unexpected tran- sitions, Proctorham was wealthy, but it was only a yard occupied a small space in a modest way, as though offering a mute apology for existence. Into this yard Cinders conducted his compan- ion, and his face brightened as he saw a fat, red- faced mau standing by the shed. ‘‘ Hullo, stranger!” cheerfully greeted this man, his expression and manner jolly in the ex- treme, ‘*Say, Mr. Peach!” cried Caleb, ‘can I leave this boy here?” ‘* Tt ain’t a parcel office, and [ can’t give ye no check for him,” ‘* But kin he stay?” “Certain. But why?” *¢ We're in trouble!” ‘You don’t say so! What’s up?” Caleb told the story rapidly, and had an at- tentive listener. Horace Peach was a poor man who did oily a small business, and worked hard at that, but me hada heartas big as his body, metapkborically speaking, and was always ready to help the needy and uvfortunate, He and Cinders had struck up a friendship since the latter came to the neighborhood, and he was favorably impressed by Allan’s appear- ance, Plainly, the boy was no vagabond, ** Mighty odd!” observed Mr. Peach, dhonta Procterheia cut up so rusty?” ** It’s born inter him.” ‘“‘He ought ter get rid of it by an emetic. But that ain’t to the point; we’ve got this lad on our hands, and must see him out o’ his scrape,” Peach then questioned Allan as Caleb had done, but utterly failed to learn where he lived, A Directory was consulted without any good result, and they were left to face the fact that the boy lived somewhere in New York—but where? ‘¢ The police could find out the quickest,” Peach remarked, sg aes ‘* But ’twon’t do fur him ter go ter them, for Proctorham will have him arrested,” urged Cin- ders, ‘* Fact! He’s in a bad way—and so be you. Out o’ work, are you?” ** 1 be; I now sign myself ‘ Cinders, the Cast- away: residence, the streets o’ New York.’ That’s all the home I’ve got just now, but, jum- pin’ wildcats! I don’t mind it! I’m like the nine-spot in a game oO’ eucher; | git throwed out ev’ry discard, but mas apt ter bea trump as the right bowker, age ag Al A each scratched his red nose, and thereby left a streak of coal-dust on it, ‘‘ We've got ter pursoo a decided course,” he replied. ‘‘If I bad a cab, or private equipage, I'd go streakin’ it all over New York, but, as ain’t, we must do the next best thing. I have just hitched up to go down-town'a ways to get a load, and il take you two boys right in, and Allan shall look for his mother’s house as we drive,” Young Garland again grew cheerful, but the ‘-Castaway” looked doubtful. Peach's horse was a heavy animal, and the wagon was of the sort commonly used for drawing coal. It was not a turn-out which could cover ground very rapidly. ses ‘¢Get right in,” added Mr, Peach, *‘ an’ off we ‘* Why Never mind me; what about Caleb still had his doubts, but he yielded with- out argument, only stipulating that they should keep away from the section where Proctorham and his searchers were likely to be encountered, All three climbed up on the coal-cart, Peach eet his whip, and they moved out of the yard. The Castaway was the only one of the trio who was not cheerful at that moment, and, when he had looked both ways and failed to see a policeman or his late employer, he felt re- lieved for the time being. But ke could not banish the fear of trouble to come, For several blocks all went well, and Allan was kept busy looking for familiar objects— only Caleb seemed to realize how much the chances were against them—but thé progress of the heavy old horse was very slow, indeed, and the coal-cart rumbied on as though a world of time was at their disposal. Several times the Castaway looked back, and he Ped grasped Peach’s arm suddenly and tig . short distance to where a very unromantic coal- | + down the steps. ne “Say, d’ye see that?” he asked, excitedly, “ A earriage and two hosses—yes!’ Pvach re- plied. ‘* That’s Proctorham’s turn-out!” ts No 1"? ‘* Yes, ’tis; an’ they’re chasin’ us!” The coal-deaier heard avd believed, The other vehicle, though some distance away, was rolling rapidly after them, going three yards to their one, and, judging by appearances, mak- ing an effort to overtake them. **Tnere’s Proctorham on the box!” Cinders added. ‘Oh! he will catch me!” cried Allan, in ter- ror, ‘* Not much!” sturdily declared Peach. ‘‘ Ef he was rich as Solomon, l’d lam him with this whip if he tried it—but I guess it would be bet- ter ter try ter dodge,” He turned the team into a side-street as he spoke and then applied the whip smartly to his orse, ** Now for a trick!” he added. CHAPTER III, RUN DOWN! PEACH was well aware that any attempt to outstrip the pursuers in a race would result in complete failure, but his ready mind had seized upon the one chance open to them, Not much further did be go, but, instead, turned into an alley where a small business was done at the rear, and, having driven behind the front build- ing, awaited the result, A short time passed, and then the pursuing carriageappeared. Proctorham sat on the box with tue driver, and his gaze was bent straight ahead, with an eager, ominous expression on his face, ‘‘Lay on the whip!” he cried, in a voice audible to the objects of his pursuit, ‘I will run them down if I kill my horses!” Another moment and they were invisible from the alley. Peach saw that Allan was trembling ad and he laid his big hand on the child’s ea . ‘*Brace up, my little man!” he directed, heartily, ‘* The mean skunk ain’t got you yet, an’ be sha’n’t get you, by sixty!” ders, ‘‘ Proctorham is mean, an’l always knew it, but I think worse o’ him now. I don’t swal- ler his yarn about thinkin’ we had been robbin’ him; I'll bet he could tell who locked ye up:in the stable, but why ’twas done is a pernicious mystery.” o time was allowed to go to waste, and as soon as the carriage was out of sight, Horace Peach drove out of the alley. He showed his shrewdness by Pemaratens retracing their steps for two blocks, after which ho branched off in a new direction. fice they would not be likely to look in that uarter, While they rattled away in the fashion pecu- liar to coal-carts, Peach did some thinking, W hat was to be done with Allan Garland? He was a lost child, and they could not apply to the police, since Proctorbam had probably attached them to hiscause by making a false charge of burglary against the boys. Allan could not find shelter with Caleb, for the latter had no home; he could not go with Peach, for the coal dealer’s house was likely to be invaded by Proctorham’s assistants. However, Peach bad a sister, and he decided that it would be best to take the child there, With this idea in mind he held to a certain course, while Allan looked eagerly at each new block which they passed. As time passed and they saw no signs of his mother’s house his face began to grow long and treraulous, and it need- ed all of his companion’s kind words to keep him up, A change was at hand, though, and it came so suddenly as to startle even level-headed Caleb. Suddenly the child gave a great leap, and then stretched out both of his arms, ‘* Mamma! mamma!” hecried, wildly ; *‘ there’s mv mother!” Peach pulled up his big horse with a motionas sudden as it was impulsive, and looked mechan- ically in the same direction that Allan was look- ing. fio saw a lady and a gentleman standing onthe steps of a plain brick house, equipped for the street. Allan’s cry had reacbed their ears, and both had turned their faces. The discovery af- fected them as much as it had done the child, and the lady, too, stretched ovt her arms; and then, her face lighting up witb joy, sbe ran ‘** Them is the facts,” ccrroborated Caleb Cin- - Unless.the pursuers penetrated the late arti-