Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 857 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

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How ‘bout de fairy?” **On Twenty-fourth street?” oe OB, ‘“* She’s been cutting up rusty since that Jittle affair of the other night—won’'t give me any peace,” ** You'll shake her?” : ‘““Of course. Jessie’s a hot-headed little witch, and I’ll be glad to get rid of her.” | “*How ’bout yer real wife up in Harlem?” “She'll follow me wherever I go.” ‘This reply was scarcely heard by the man ‘who seemed to be sleeping at a near-by table. Budge Farrel’s question had quite taken away his breath, and it was with the greatest difficulty he refrained from uttering a cry. As it was a gasping groan came from his lips. ———— CHAPTER XII. ON THE SCENT. “* HELLO!” Black Dirk turned and looked suspiciously ‘at Frank. ‘“ W’ot’s der matter wid dat bloke?” came from Budge Farrel. ‘‘I t’ink he’s dreamin’ an’ der dreams don't agree wid him,” ‘*“'That’s all,” agreed Dirk, with relief. “*'The queer sound he made gave me a start.” Then the two rascals put their heads close together and spoke in such low tones that, for a time, the blacksmith could hear no more than a mumbling sound. It was with the greatest difficulty Frank could keep from leaping to his feet, and throttling Black Dirk. He now understood how the wretch had deceived Jessie Brad- dock andled herinto a marriage that was weally no marriage at all. But, at the same time, Mr. John Snow, or whatever his name was, had committed big- any” e should be fitly punished; Frank vowed that within his heart. He was not given much time for thought, for the plotters began to speak loud enough for him to hear once more. And what they said gave Frank such a shock that he was atremble all over in a moment. ‘* 'W’ot yer want me ter do wid der kid?” inquired Farrel. ‘‘ Just keep him quiet till he can’t spoil my game—nothing more,” replied the chief rascal, The kid! Was it possible they meant Bob? The thought caused the listener to ‘hold his breath and listen for the next words. ‘*He was plumb leery fer a while.” “* How is he now?” **O. K., but weak.” ‘** You gave him a terrible thump.” “ Near cracked his nut, I reckon. him ‘harder dan I meant ter. he'd croak,” ‘*And I thought he had croaked when I saw him tumble down in the middle of the floor before me. If he had talked one min- Struck I was ’feared - ute longer, he’d raised merry blazes with the girl. wife,” , “How'd yer git out of dat?” ‘Put up a big bluff—said the boy. was crazy from the blow. It went kind of hard, ‘but [ made it go.” ‘*T reckon she raised der old snap w'en ‘she ae outer de fainty spell an’ found him gone?’ As it was, he-swore I had another re - > —_—_—_— —h_SS | RR Spotter Bob in New York. ‘That she did, but I calmed her by say- ing I had sent him to a hospital.” ‘*Didn’t she want ter go?” ‘‘ Yes, and I promised to take her in the morning.” ** Den yer didn't?” “ Not any. I never showed up till the | tottering building -- pursuer. He struck into a maze of dirt crooked streets, some of which were poorly | + lighted and villainous in the extreme. It was in this wretched quarter that the man Frank was following suddenly turned and descended the cellar steps of a dismal, He was gone so quickly next night, and thenJI declared the surgeon | that the young blacksmith was startled. had fixed the kid up, called him allright and let him go without my knowledge. I swore I had tried to find out what had become of the boy, but had utterly failed. That was what had kept me away all day.” Budge Farrel chuckled with admiration. ‘‘Great head! You'd oughter been in polerticks, Youse a jo}|y Har!” ware drinks were erdered, and then Farrel asKned, “Wot if de kid: should happen ter croak | on me han’s?” Black Dirk looked searchingly at his syco- phant. ” ‘©T hope you don’t have an idea of putting him out of the way?” ‘* He's a big bother.” ‘‘ Better bother than todo that I never killed but one man in my life, and’ that was in self-defense, I don’t want to have any- thing todo with snuffing out a boy.” “Well, jest as you say. But sometimes dese boys make heaps of trouble. W’en he gets loose, he’s jest de kind of a chicken ter buy a gun an’ go lookin’ fer de man w’ot played his sister crooked,” ‘* 1 ll be far enough away by that time.” ‘‘ Well, it’s nottink ter me, so youse pays me fer lookin’ arter de young rat.” ‘* | want you to look after him well; don’t let him slip you; not under any circum- stances,” ‘* Not on yer life.” Then their conversation turned to other matters. Frank Anson’s blood was boiling. There was no doubt in his mind but he had discov- ered what had happened to Bob Braddock, and he resolved to render the unlucky lad assistance, if sucha thing were in the power of human being, A dozen plans chased each other through his head, the chief of them all being to follow the men upon the street and have them arrested as ston as possible. But this plan was soon discarded, for he realized the rascals would swear there was no truth in his charge, and, as he knew not where Bob was confined, he could not prove there was, He must first find the unlucky boy. That was settled, but how was it to be done? He was doubtful of his ability to play the shadow, and yet it seemed he must undertake it. And he did. Barely had Black Dirk and Budge Farrel left the garden before he was on his feet. The waiter he had tipped was at his side, and he thrust a quarter into his hand, but did not even say a word. The place was on the point of closing, the stage show being over for the night, but that was nothing to Frank. Out upon the street he flung, al- ready fearing he would lose sight of his man. Budge was just parting from Black Dirk, a short distance away. Frank halted in the shadow of a doorway and watched the men until they separated, then he started after Farrel promptly. The amateur trailer worked with the greatest caution, all the while in terror lest Farrel should suspect he was tracked and give him the slip. ** With God's help, T’ll pet Bob out of his scrape this night!’ he whis ‘‘ Then we'll see if we can’t spoil the vile game of these two villainous crooks. Bob has a level head, and we can make things hot if we work together.” Farrel strode along at a rapid pace, and certain it is he did not dream he was followed, for he made not the least effort to baffle a ie f ¥ r he @ ee SS ed! .t it Doi he ae bp tg : | ‘s + mn ' o . r ay 7 ett be) » ’ ! > .\ e's Lg | pret ae + : | mm — L te - AS & 4 | - ) ty Moh OG hae! i ; . | / ‘| ~ a, OP a MY eee . (aaa pered to himself. . ‘Ten to one that’s the hole!’ exultingly thought the tracker. ‘‘It’s just the kind of a place I’d expect would be used to confine Bobin. Now, the matter of getting the boy out follows, and that is the difficult part of the job.” CHAPTER XIII. BOB TURNS THE TABLES. LirrLe did Budge Farrel know what greeting awaited him when he so boldly made his way into the basement of the ram- shackle house on that dark and wretched street, The doors opetied to his touch and he pushed his way along as one thoroughly familiar with every crook and turn of the place. The thug was feeling pretty well, as he had imbibed quite freely since sunset, hav- ing won on the races the day before, besides being paid a comfortable sum by Black Dirk for the dirty work he had performed. “ ** Dis is jest like findin’ plunks!” he chuck- led, allalone to himself in the darkness of the place. A rat ran squeaking from be- neath his feet and scampered into its hole, It did not startle him for his nerves weré not at all fine. ‘* Tf Jack could only git dis cashier fool on de hip an’ find out der combination of der bank safe, we’d make a haul dat'd set us up in business fer a long time. Der boss is a cool one, an’ he’s got a great head—great head!’’ And Budge himself would have a “‘ great head” by the coming of another day. He took some keys from bis pocket and jingled them in the dark. ‘* Wonder how der kid is standin’ de rack- et,” he mused. ‘* Dat boy’s got grit sure; he won’t whine, he won’t. Hebe chickens’d be skeercd ter deat’ of de rats, tied up like he is. He can’t do nort’in’ but roll over.” He found a lock and fitted the key to it. The key turned readily and a door swung open, allowing him to step into a room that was also dark. ‘* Hello, kid!” he called. ‘* Right here!” The words sounded in his ear, and then he received a blow on the head that dropped him like a log on the floor! A second later, a match was struck, and the flame revealed the eager face of a boy that bent over the thug’s prostrate form to peer Inquiringly into his face. In his band the boy held a brick, with which the terrible blow had been delivered, And that boy was Bob Braddock. ‘‘That’s the business!” came cheerfully from the lad’s lips. ‘‘ Knocked out in the first round and witha single swipe! Talk about Sullivan an’ Corbett an’ them fellers— give me a brick!” The match went out, but he promptl lighted another and began a search throug <. Goa at ad =f te! bet US ee ee ee ee a | teed bed ook OO lhe ae >[email protected] sae 3 | [0b ‘‘ Where be ye?” the room fora lamp. He soon found one, dirty, greasy and with a broken chimney. — This was lighted and served his purpose very well, ‘Right in town!” he laughed, grimly, ie ‘Now to fix Mr. Budge so he won’t budge =~ a till I git reddy for him.” Ff) Bob was pale and dirty, while there were still signs of crusted blood on the side of his face, indicating he had not washed since the’ knock out blow given him by the man he had just served in a similar manner. nerve was unbroken, bowever, and he was ) «} F yy 7 ’ a@ *, ea: —) ye r ; ree prem 6 es . ‘ : ' a 4a oh} iF >» : 4 ea Fie Mey a ee Pm Saat ey Te Danis PF oy . 7 7 ae ¢ eel eta ed Le “Glee ah a 7: td ifs ~ + ae eee fe : * Ae is a ee gt why | tin ae 2 « iad 4 a i » Ral gti ori a at m toy fer de i.) ~>e bbs ah fe, vat aie Seger, 7 yw eo , 3 i? re : “ = wn : er PIED yal Sg ey ; tinge +) y i | i we al me. s BE @ Teer \ | eg) me ; Te { His. deliberate and cool in all his movements, as_ if they had been carefully planned before- : oh } ,> aan > > = \? 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