Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 859 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

——— The speaker was a young girl, and with | her last utterance, or threat against strong men, she bowed her face in her hands an crouched down on the floor by the side of the body_of the one just slain, The scene was a strange one, for five men with masked faces had shrunk back from their deed of crime as suddenly into the room a young girl had dashed, her eyes flashing, face livid and whole manner one of intense excitement. She had not appeared to notice the men who shrunk back at her entrance until she had thrown herself by the side of the dead body, placed her hand over his heart and then, feeling that life was gone forever from him, had uttered the threat that each one of the murderers should hang for their red crime. , ‘‘ Bah! girl, your threats are harmless; and more—if we do not find that old man’s gold, you shall suffer his fate also. So come! where is it hidden? You know and cansave usa search,” and one of the men stepped toward the kneeling girl, She sprung to her feet and faced him like a tigress at bay. ‘Come, where is the gold? Talk quickif you wish to save your life, for it is no more to us than that old man’s,” ““That’s so! Dead gals, like dead men, tell no tales,” growled one of the other men, and drawing a knife he stepped forward as oe quite ready to take the young girl’s ife. Contrary to the expectation. of all, she neither started back, nor cried out; but with a calmness most impressive said ina low, dis- tinct tone; ' ‘*T do not know where his gold is hidden, and if I did I would not tell you.” ‘* Ha! you dare defy us?’ cried the first speaker, menacingly. ‘Yes; forall I loved in the world lies dead at my feet, and what have I tolive for, now?” Her voice had dropped to one full of pathos, its defiant tone subdued by her great grief. Then, in the silence that followed her words there came, with startling distinctness, uttered by no one knew who, nor from whence it came, and seemingly breathed in their very midst, the words; “< Live for revenge !” A yell of terror broke from the lips of sev- eral of the masked men, for the words seem- ed to have come from the lips of the dead man, while the effect was, rendered more startling by the cry: ‘* Yes, I will live for revenge. I defy you!’ ‘*Men, we are betrayed. Quick or all is lost! Come /” It was the leader who spoke, and he darted toward the door, not leading his men, for in their terror they had already sprung ferward to escape. But, as he reached the door he cried say- agely’ ‘* You shall not escape, girl!’ With the words he threw his hand forward. It held a revolver, and his finger was upon the trigger. But, the shot was not fired, for, suddenly, there rung through the house the shrill notes of a police whistle, and with it came a shot that shattered the lampin the room to atoms, lenving all in utter darkness. With a cry of half-alarm, half-joy, the girl dropped by the side of the murdered man, the silence unbroken now, save by the rapid rush of the fugitive murderers. A moment passed; the running feet were no longer heard, and silence intense, with a darkness that could be felt, enveloped the mansion, piling the red deed just committed beneath its roof, Several minutes passed; then came in a low whisper: ‘* Where are you, miss?” The girl started at the whispered words, spoken seemingly at her very side, and Murderers, springing to her feet, as she in vain tried to penetrate the darkness about her, she asked: ‘‘ Who is it that speaks to me?” ‘* Only a boy, miss,” was the low reply. ‘* A boy?” ** Yes, miss; but I scared the men away. I was terribly afraid they would kill you.” “ But for you they would have done so, I believe. But, who are you?” ‘€T don’t know, miss.” ‘* You don’t know who you are?” ‘The boys call me Graveyard Jack, miss, and New York Nat, for Nat, I think, is my real name,” ‘* Where are you?” the girl asked. ‘‘ |’ve just come down the chimney, miss,” was the quiet response. ‘‘Just wait. Tl strike a match and let you see, miss,” CHAPTER II. ‘GRAVEYARD JACK.” THE snap of a match was heard, there was a flash of light, then a flickering glare, and the one who had spoken to her was revealed, holding the burning bit of wood above his head and showing himself standing in the large, old-fashioned fireplace, appearing as though he was peering out of some dark cavern. ‘¢ There is another lamp—I will light it,” and the young girl sprung across the room to the table, where, near the one shattered by the bullet, was a second lamp. This she quickly lighted, and then turned to gaze upon the one who had so strangely and spooklike come to her rescue, He had stepped out of the large fireplace, and stood revealed in the strong rays of the lamp—‘‘ only a boy,” as he had said, for he did not appear to be over fifteen, though well built for his years, and possessing a slender, wiry form, clad in a gray suit, con- siderably the worse for wear, and with the cap of a messenger-boy upon his head, beuar- ing the letters: “N, Y. N. or tue B. P. L.” His face was one to attract any one, so handsome and a it was, with a dash of daring and spirit in it that Was unmis- takable. ) The room he had entered was very large scantily furnished, with a cot, table an chair only and with the heavy wooden shut. ters closed and barred. The dead man lying upon the floor near the cot had his hat on, while, scattered about him, were a number .of purchases with which his arms had been filled when the fatal bullet pierced his heart. The mansion where the tragedy had oc- curred was a large one, built of’ brick and stone, surrounded by large grounds, and situated in New York City, not far from the Hudson—the gxonees in the rear running back to an ol Brevnyan, from which the ashes of the dead are now being taken from before the march of the living. The youth stood gazing with as deep in- terest upon the young girl as she was gaz- ing upon him, for, whatever the motive which had brought him there, he seemed surprised at finding her in the dead man’s home, He beheld a young girl about his own age, for she had hardly yet crossed the threshold of sweet sixteen, and her beauty riveted his eyes upon her. Her face was refined, her hair golden, her eyes large, lustrous and black, and her form well developed and graceful. She was well dressed, in blue flannel, that fitted her form well, and as she leaned for- ward in her eagerness to get a good look at her rescuer hér attitude was both graceful and striking. ‘So you are called Graveyard Jack?” she said, when she had critically scanned the face of the youth. ‘ Yes, ‘miss, as well as New York Nat.” 2B | New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. rr Le eee eee eee << “Why do they call you by such ter names as Graveyard Jack?” ‘*You won't tell on me?” “Oh. no,’: ‘* Because I live in a graveyard, for any name goes that fits, you see, among the boys.” ‘* You live in a graveyard?” repeated the startled girl, gazing with keener interest at the youth. ‘‘ Yes, miss; 1 live in the graveyard back of this rookery. My homeis in a big but unused vault there, and the boys who know it nickname me Graveyard Jack.” ‘Tell me why you live in the graveyard?” ‘‘T am safe there miss, for no one comes there to disturb me.” ‘* Safe?” ‘‘ Yes, miss; I live in a vault with an iron door, and—” ‘‘ And the bodies?’ asked the young girl with a shudder, ‘‘ They are there miss, but all sealed up, each in its niche, so they don’t disturb me. It’s the dive folks I’m afraid of, not the dead.” ‘‘ What cause have you to be afraid of any one?” ‘‘The same cause which you had to be afraid of those men awhile since—which poor Miser Maxwell, lying dead on the floor there, had reason to fear—because there are men who are cruel as death itself when they seek gold or revenge.” The boy spoke like one in years older than he appeared to be, and the young gir! seem- ed deeply impressed by his words aud man- ner, She apparently had forgotten the dead form lying upon the floor, and stood gazing at the youth until he recalled her to herself with the words: ‘‘ What was Miser Max to you, miss?” She started and ber face paled once more, her eyes filled with tears, and, kneeling by the side of the still form once more she bowed her head and answered: | : ‘‘ He was my grandfather,” ‘‘T did not know he had a soul in the whole world to love him, but me. I feel very sorry for you, miss,” ‘“ You loved him then? What was he to ou?” he gave me food when | was hungry—but listen!” Both stood silent and attentive now, for a sound had come to their ears, the sound of an approaching step. Another moment und a voice called out: ‘‘Ho, Cap! is the work done, or am I in time to share in the job and the chink of the old miser?”’ | As the last word was spoken a man’s form stepped into the room, coming through the door by which the murderers had fled a few moments betore. The intruder was masked. At his appearance the youn g gin uttered a ery of alarm, and when she eld his sur- prise at sight of them and his sudden at- tempt to draw a weapon, she cowed down in terror, But, New York Nat was too quick for him and his weapon flashed first, CHAPTER III, ‘‘MISER MAX.” Tur ‘old houses ” of New York City are rapidly being destroyed by the growth of the greater metropolis, but here and there can yet be found one that dates back a century of years, while, hidden by the tall mansions of the rich can even be seen several of the burying places where the dead have slept unmolested through generations. It was in one of these old-time mansions, surrounded by several acres, thick with ever- reens run wild, and by large trees, that a 4 ‘ ; ' | @ ‘‘He saved my life once; that was all, and _ man found a home where he could live apart | ‘ > * oN . — i, ie 2