Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 857 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

ore 4 Plena T'll'‘loan you a couple of hundred for a month or two, You won't need it that long, if you put the pile on Mayfair. You can get odds of thirty to one, and $200 will bring you in $6,000 clean, With that you ‘can square every debt, and have enongh to face the world once more.” . It was a great temptation, as the face of ‘the young man fairly showed, and it did not itake the older schemer long to-induce Steele ite actept the money. ‘There is something about gambling that seems to roh a usually level-headed .man of good judgment when he finds himself helplessly behind, He fan- sies his only hope is to find his money where lhe lost it, to use a favorite expression of sponting men, and so he takes still more desperate chances, clinging desperately to ithe wreck and causing it to sink still faster iby reason of his mad struggles to get on an even keel. _ Willis Steele.did not see the gleam of sat- isfaction in the oo of the big man when he agreed to tahe Black Dirk's loan. He was busy writing another J. O. U., and the ras- cal who pretended to be his friend already ‘held several to which his name was attached, the sums written upon them varying from $50 to $300. After the transaction was completed, the ‘two men had a drink together, Steele taking lemon and soda, and then they neutered out, brushing against the boy who had heard the greater part of the conversation. “1 twig your little game, or I’m a cod- fish!’ was Spotter Bob’s mental observation. **I’m onter you bigger’n anelifunt! You're workin’ to git the young cove tangled all up, an’ then you're goin’ to use him dirty some- how. Mebbe it goes; but I'll bet odds it don’t. I’m a Rogue-Crusher from Crusher- ville, an’ V’ll trip you up somehow. First thing is to make a break at you and see how fast you can lie,” ' Barely had the two men reached the _ street when Black Dirk felt a hand on his arm and turned to see a boyish face at his elbow. ‘‘’Scuse me, mister,” said Bob; ‘‘but I'd kinder like to know where I can find my sis- ter.” 7 The man halted in surprise, off the hand, saying harshly: ‘‘What’s that? Your sister? How do you suppose I know anything about your sister?” ‘But you do know, just thersame! I saw you ridin’ in the Park with her. Her name is Jessie Braddock.” ‘Riding in the Park with your sister? ‘You're crazy! Lama married man, and—” ‘I saw ye! You can’t fool this chap! I have come from Phillydelfy to find her, an’ you're goin’ to tell me where she is.” ‘ But I tell you I’m married! I[—” ‘That don’t make no difference in your case. You hain’t too good for any double game, Mr, Black Dirk.’ Nervy man though he was, the rascal turned pt as he heard the boy address him thus. e fell back a step. ‘* Black Dirk!” ‘ That’s what vg § call ye out in Idaho,” cheerfully assured Bob. ‘You've got a smutty rep out there, and I advise this young at to look sharp or you’ll do him dirt. Dirk shook With a fierce exclamation of rage, the in- _ furiated man launched his heavy right fist. The blow caught the boy fairly, and it made poor Bob see stars. CHAPTER V., TRACKED TO HARLEM, THE boy was knocked down in an {nstant, and, for some moments, he lay stunned on the sidewalk. Willis Steele uttered an exclamation of as- tonishment and resentment as he witnessed the blow, and the man of the black mustache seemed shocked by his own act, re ' ; wt 4, - ~ 4 7 oe _ ; : 4 wat te art Pack i ondert ‘< ‘ p, a as » i : ov bet df aft ‘ ~e- y PME CR Rie icv An eee eee om y' es "a fT \ ’ eT . =o ae x* — * 7 Spotter Bob in New York. “‘T didn’t mean to do it,” he asserted; ‘* but Icouldn’t take that guff. I forgot he was aboy, Guess he’s all right, Come on, Steele.” He took hold of the cashier’s arm and they walked rapidly across the avenue to the stairs of the Elevated Station. By the time they were half-way over, Bob was on his feet and looking around for them, A crowd had gathered aroywnd him with astonishing quick- ness, but he slipped through the little knot and ran across the street, gaining the other side quite as soon as the men he was follow. | He saw Black Dirk look back, but he | | ing. was sure the man did not see bim, and he took good care to fall back and keep out of sight, Willis Steele and the man of the black mus- tache stood in earnest conversation for some moments, and then they parted, Steele turn- ing down Broadway, Bob had ariticipated the movements of Black Dirk, and tlie shrewd young fakir was already skipping up the flight of stairs ya g to the Elevated Station Of the lower side, Knowing the man might look back to dis- cover if he was followed the sharp lad ven- tured a hazard that Dirk would take the first Harlem train, and so he reached the station first. He lost not a second in bolt- | | ing into the waiting-room, where he peered | from the window, eagerly watching for his | man. ‘‘Tf I’m wrong, I’ll go take a soak off the dock,” muttered Bob. ‘' But Steele don’t go up on the L, cause he—cause he—well, cause he don’t. Dunno why I think so, but it’s something in the cut of his jib. One of ’em was goin’ to take the train, else why did he stop to chin at the foot of the stairs. If | Steele don’t go, then it must be— There he | 78 /”” | Black Dirk came hurrying out on the plat: | form just as the chopper cried: | “ Harlem train—Harlem!” The man glanced up and down, and then | he made for the train. There was a jam | aboard and he had some difficulty about get- ting a foothold inside the gate. Bob was not to be left. That would not be ‘‘ business,” and he was business to the tips of his fingers. Out of the waiting-room he darted, aKa he was able to worm his way upon another car, But he could not watch his man from that | osition and so be able to tell where Black | irk got off Knowing the man would not bother to ride on a crowded Harlem train unless he was going further than 50th street, the boy aid’ not hurry about making his way to a point where he could watch Dirk. Gradually and deliberately, he worked down through the crowded car, and by the time Ffty-ninth street was reached he. had his eyes glued on the owner of the black mustache, ‘This is when I know just where you hang out, honey,” thought the shrewd shadow. ‘ You're a villain, and I know it. I'll git square for that rap in the jaw, or my name’s Cold Molasses.” Passengers began to get off at every station after Fifty-ninth street was passed, and with the thinning out it became more diffi cult for Bob to keep out of sight. A large number left the train at 116th. street, and the boy jammed himself down in @ corner, keeping an eye on his game, who, strangely enough, still remained on the platform. At 125th street Black Dirk left the train and hurried toward the stairs. The guard snapped the gate closed before Bob could get off | ‘‘ Hey, there!” called the boy, seeing Dirk peer te: ‘‘Jemme out!” ** Too late.” The anes had pulled the cord as a signal to go ahead, Gotter git off!” protested the boy shadow, ‘Mighty important business, an’ my name's * a -* ‘ ( : hil | business straight from the shoulder. 5 Jerk open the flange an’ permit me to dismount.” ‘Get into the car and sit down! You can get off at next stop.” The train started. ‘Take me for a snoozer?” ‘“T’ve got wings. See me soar!” Over the gate he went at a leap, striking lightly on his feet on the platform of the station, ‘‘ Hey, chopper!” yelled the guard, that kid? Grab him!” ‘‘Well, I should smile!” chuckled the nimble lad, ‘‘lt takes something quicker than a crab to pinch me, Ketch onto my motion It’s great.” Like a monkey he slipped past the chop- per’s outstretched hand and fled down the stairs, He was not pursued. “That's what I like,” smiled Spotter Bob, as he bounded down the steps and reached the street. ‘‘I can feed on excitement. This is the right kind of a town for me, Phillydelfy ain’t in it after this.” He looked around for his man and was just in time to see him turning along the street toward the east. Then it was not a hard task for him to shadow Dirk. Straight toa very fashionable apartment building the boy tracked his man, and he saw the bell Dirk rung. When the owner of the black mustache had disappeared, the ie shadow walked boldly forward and looke at the name over the bell. It was: “WALDEN WHITER.” “That's what the young feller called him when the girl asked who he was,” thought Bob; ‘‘so that must be the title he sports in this town. Walden White! What a name fora rascal, and rascal he is, or I’m a chumpy- chump. Well, I wonder what I can discover about Mr. Walden White.” | He looked around for information, and, just then, the negro janitor of the place came out, The darkey surveyed Bob in a mighty patronizing way, as he pompously inquired: “W’at yo’ want, boy?” : The young Rogue-Crusher, as Bob some- times called himself, took off his hat and bowed profoundly, a.look of awe and rever: ence on his face, as he deferentially asked: ‘¢ Are you the owner of this building?” The negro looked suspiciously at the boy, as if to discover whether he was being guyed or not, but the young fakir’s face was per- fectly grave and solemn, as if he were in sober earnest. ‘Why, no, suh,” answered the janitor, swelling with importance; ‘‘not edzactly de ownah, suh, but—” “Then you must be a still more impor- tant personage. Is—is it possible you are— the ‘net ang The question was asked with bated breath and an appearance of the greatest awe. The negro grew two inches in less than half a minute. ‘Yes, suh, I am de janitor, suh.” “Then yourun the ranch, of course, | am proud to know you, The janitors are monarchs in this town, and that by a large majority, I trust you will not be offended, ob, mighty sir, if 1 venture to ask you a few Seiis questions concerning one of © your tenants?” ‘Dat’s all right, boy; only don’ tek up too much ob my vallyubul time, Watcher want to know, suh?” ‘Would you be condescending enough to inform me who this Mr. Walden White is?” ‘‘Him? Why, dat man’s rich—in de real estate business. Gives de larges’ tips ob any man in de house. He's a corker, dat man ‘* How long has he lived here?” ‘‘Kight months—mos’ nine.” ‘‘Many thanks, noble sir. Has he & family, forsooth?” | 3 cried Bob. ‘* See