Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 869 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

— — Cll half-letter, with the signature part torn off, has not much significance,” “The handwriting I cannot be mistaken in,” | cried Mr, Burton eagerly. Gorley, of Grip & Gorley. his letters, which you may compare,” The commissioner looked them over. **Yes; [think you are right. marked handwriting. of these broken lines?” ‘Wait, sir. This paper has a quite remark- able history. Itis better I should tell you that first, since that is one of the main sources of my suspicions,” He proceeded to tell the story which we have ' already told the reader, the commissioner listen- ing with the deepest attention, ‘*Mercy on us! it is quite a romance,” he ejaculated. ‘* Everything but pistols and poi- son. I don’t know when I have heard such a story inreallife. I don’t wonder you feel sus- picious. And the Joe that took partin this— was he the former letter-carrier?” ‘* The same,” ‘‘ Well! the plot thickens. And now, let us get back to the letter. I see some of your points. It contains the name of Jce Starling.” ‘** Yes; and the following broken lines. ‘ You need fear noth—;‘ * have made no mist—;’ * sup- pose they do—;’ ‘can prove nothing.’ Now, I should fill those lines out somewhat as follows: ‘You need fear nothing from any carelessness on our part;’‘ we have made no mistakes, and will make none.’ ‘Suppose they do suspect something wrong, they can prove nothing.’ ‘ Joe Starling is safe; his tongue is tied.’ I take it from this that Jenkins was bribed tohold back our letter, and did it by this neat scheme with the aid of the letter-carrier. Jenkins may have heard something of our inquiries, which were renewed lately, have got nervous, and have written to Grip & Gorleyto knowif they had suf- ficiently covered up their tracks. This is part of their reply. Jenkins is in San Francisco now, and could communicate only by letter.” ** It looks as if you were right, Mr. Burton,” answered the commissioner. ‘‘ Yet a court of law doesn’t deal with theories, and, strong as your presumption is, the actual evidence you have to bring is really very little,” ‘** Does it seem so to you?” inquired Mr, Bur- ton, in a tone of disappointment. ‘¢ Yes. Look at the facts. The evidence of the wrong delivery of the letter cannot well be ot over,if thecarrier sticks to his story—which will, Y wcan only say then that the carrier was discharged for some loosenegs, that he gota position with Grip & Gorley, and that they wrote a letter to Jenkins with some doubtful half lines, Not a very strong case is this to sustain so grave a charge.” ‘Why did they try so hard to recover the letter?” ‘*That is suspicious—very suspicious—no doubt, You have strong presumptive evidence. But I doubt very much if you could get a ver- dict in your favor on this evidence, If Starling could be only got to confess—but there is little hope of that. Or,if you could obtain the miss- ing half of this letter.” ‘*T have thought of that, you may be sure,” said Mr. Burton. ‘‘l have my two young scouts, Ned and Dick, on the track of that miss- ing half. They will find it, if it is to be found. I have great confidence in them.” ** You have reason for that. They seem to be thoroughly wide-awake. The young rascals ap- pear to be a match for Grip himself, and he has no small reputation for sharpness.” ‘Tf they ay up to their record Grip will be distanced. I shall have some more adventures to tell you.” _ ‘Very likely. Very likely, indeed.” Ten minutes afterward, his business with the commissioner ended, Mr, Burton emerged on Chestnut street, and walked up that crowded thoroughfare. The look of hope that marked his face became doubt as he went on. It came a pa eae shes es nea ot success in the ys’ adventure was really v ight, and that he bad been building highly on mace narrow foundation, ‘¢ Well, there’s no use to get down-hearted,” he said. ‘‘ We'll be no worse off than before. It is not the money I care for, but I do want badly to squeeze those confounded rogues,” He turned toward the door of a restaurant, it being about bis dinner hour. ‘*Hillo! Well, who’d ’spected to run afoul o’ poo pong here!” came froma youthful voice be- im. He turned to behold the intelligent and beam- ing face of Ned Norman. ~. What! it is you, my boy!” ‘* tt was written by Here are others of | It is a well- | But what do you make | | | | | | | | | | ee Got some ’Tain’t much, but it’s ‘*T reckon ’tain’t nobody shorter. thin’ to tell you, too. somethin’,”’ ‘*Come in here, then, Have you had dinner?” ‘‘Nothin’ but a bananner. But ain’t that jlace too tony fer me?’ looking down at his at- ti P ire. ‘* No; you look respectable in the new suit | ing back his chair, which Mr. Grip was kind enough to buy for you,” answered Mr. Burton, with a laugh. ‘*Come, we'll dine and talk at the same time,” Nothing loth, Ned followed. Selecting a table out of easy hearing of other guests, Mr, Burton | gave his order, ** Now, Ned, while we’re waiting, let me know | what you have done,”’ Ned burst into a hearty laugh, which made several of the nearer guests turn their-heads. ‘* [t’s jist prime the way Dick’s been doin’ it,” he exclaimed, gayly. ‘*‘Why, he’s shoeblack general for all Grip & Gorley’s. He brung his kit 0’ brushes over, and him and me laidit out that he was to play that dodge, He's took there, Dick has, Ue blacked up old Grip yesterday, and done half a dozen jobs in the store.” ‘* Very good.. Anything else?” ‘* Why, he got his eye on that waste basket. I set him up on that, you know,so he couldn” lose no time. The basket was empty. There weren’t hardly nothin’ in it.” ‘*T see. Wait a minute. dinner,” A waiter bustled up withan abundant display of dishes and hastened to deposit his freight of viands before his waiting guests. Ned kept quiet till he had finished and departed to fill some further order,’ ‘*Now you may go on,” said Mr, Burton. ‘*There ain’t much more; but what's left is the best, like pie and puddin’ after dinner. Dick scraped hisself in with the store portcr, as I told him, and got mighty curious to know what become of all their waste. He’d got a no- tion to go into business with ‘an old paper man, he said, and was lookin’ up jobs.” ‘¢ A very good move in Dick,” ‘* Couldn’t have theirs, the porter said. Been sellin’ to one old feller for years. The old chap come round every week with his bag and cleaned ’em out, He’d jist been therea day or two afore, Hecomeevery Wednesday.” ‘So; then our paper has been in his hands for more thana week. That looks bad.” ‘*He moughtn’t sell out till be gits a pile,” suggested Ned, ‘‘ Anyhow, Dick found out where the old feller’s place1s, Said he'd like to see him. Mought git a better offer from him than from t’other one, Cute in Dick, wasn’t it?” ‘*Tt was that,” ** Oh, Dick’s a snoozer! I never seen a chap of his size that’s gotso much grit and brains. Couldn’t done it better myself,” Mr. Burton laughed at the unconscious egotism of his young companion. ‘*You are going on very well,” he said. ** Now finish your dinner, before it gets cold. We can end our talk afterward.” As may be imagined, Ned did not hesitate to obey this suggestion. Not another word, ex- cept some ape ie of satisfaction, came from his lips till he had finished a profuse and very good meal, quite distancing Mr. Burton in the matter of appetite, ‘‘ Are you done, Ned? Will you have any- thing more?” he inquired. ‘You can’t put no more in a freight-car than it'll hold,” answered Ned. ‘TI reckon I'd best stop ’fore the roof bu’sts off.” ‘‘ Well, then, to business, Suppose you finish our story?” ‘* It’s bout finished now. There’s one thing I didn’t tell you, though. Somebody from Grip’s was up to where I live, axing all sorts 9’ ques- tions bout me from nddad, Dunno what he wanted, ’cept to git hold o’ me and put me out the way. But granddad ain’t no fool, nary time, and the chap didn’t git much ’cept tongue slack, I ain’t stayin’ home now, since I heerd that. ’Tain’t safe.” ‘Perhaps not. You can’t be too cautious,” ‘‘ Me and Dick’s going this afternoon down to the old paper wan, He’s out roundin’ now, but he’ll be in ’bout four or five o’clock. We want to look over his stock. Maybe he'll kick ag’in’ it; but I reckon a five-dollar greenback’ll fetch him,” ‘‘Tf it won’t, make it ten, or even twenty. And take care not todethim know what you are after.” ‘‘Do you see anything green there?” queried Ned, ulling down his eyelid. ‘‘I ain’t goin’ to lie to him, but if Dick eo to stretch a bit, that’s Dick’s business, If I fork over lively I reckon that’s all the old coon’ll ax for.” Here comes our —— a EE oe - Ned Norman, the Gamin Negotiator. li me — ~e C - a ae ee eee ‘* Very likely,” answered Mr. Burton, “If Grip hasn’t burnt that paper, and the paper- dealer has not sold out his stock, there may be some chance, I[ am staying at the Continental, Ned. You will find me in the vestibule there at ten to-morrow, Come there and report,” ‘**1ll do that,” answered Ned, rising and push- ‘*Now I guess I best go hunt up Dick.” CHAPTER XII, THE OLD PAPER DEALER, Ir was a squalid and miserable-looking den in which old Jack Brownson, the waste-paper- dealer, dwelt and stored his accumulations, A tumble-down frame building, a century old, of which two small rooms served him for living, eating, and sleeping accommodations, while the remaining rooms were stored with the product of his daily rounds, In the late afternoon of the day in which Ned had dined with Mr, Burton, he, with his con- _ federate, Dick, might have been seen in the living room of this old fellow, who had recently entered from his daily round. He was a wrinkled, grizzled, bent old chap, blind of one eye, and with stiffened and rheu- matic joints. His bag, filled with the day’s gatherings, served him as a rest, as he leaned back on an old settee, ‘* Well, youngsters,” he queried, with a voice like a cracked fish-horn, ‘‘ what yer want with old Jack, hey?” ‘Why, us boys has got a queer notion in our heads, that’s all,” answered Ned, ‘* Yer ain’t the fu’st boys I’ve see’d with a queer notion in the’r heads,” rejoined the old fellow, with a cackling laugh. ‘‘ Some of ’em git cracked notions,” ‘‘Me and Dick’s on the make, we are,” con- tinued Ned. ‘* Now, see here, Mr. Brownson—” ‘* None o’that now. Don’t go the perlite on me, Call me old Jack, like everybody does, or else git. Don’t b’lieve in no puttin’ on airs.” ‘*Don’t you never hiton nothin’ rich ’mong all them scraps which you pick up in stores? Money, or di’monds, or other things that’s worth money {” ‘*What you arter, anyhow, young feller? S’pose I did, wouldn’t I take it right back? Course I would. Anybody as says as old Jack ain’t honest—” He completed his sentence with a blow from his fist upon the wall, as if to indi- cate what would happen to the questioner of his honesty. Yet there was a crafty look in his wrinkled eyes that was, at the least, doubtful. ‘*But s’pose them papers got mixed, and no- body couldn't tell where they came from?” broke in Dick, ‘*That’s a case as ain’t come up. | allers wait fur cases to come up, ‘fore | answer ’em.” ‘*'Tell yer what, old Jack, we ain’t quite as b’ilin’ over honest as you,” continued Dick. ‘* Ain’t yer? That’s bad, boy, Sorry ter hear that.” The old man sbook his head gravely. ‘* And, what’s more,” broke in Ned,‘ we’re on the make, What’ll you take and let us go ecuee yourypile of old paper, us to keep all we nd?’ ‘* Jist so: findin’s keepin’s,” added Dick. ‘* Wal, now,” drawled old Jack, looking at them curiously, ‘‘ ye’re the fu’st boys as ever come that dodge. My, what cute boys ye are | ‘* We’ve made some money, me and Dick has, and we want to make our pile bigger. So we jist set down and calculated chances, and we hit on the old paper dodge. See here, old Jack, wes ., give you a dollar to go through your iles. ‘* And findin’s keepin’s,” repeated Dick, The old man’s eyes twinkled cunningly, ‘* Kver do this afore, youngsters?” ‘‘Reckon we have,” answered Dick, ‘‘ but ain’t struck ile yit, Kinder out of pocket, we are, But we’re goin’ ter keep her up till we come out square or hit a pile.” ‘* Wal, yer can’t go through my pile.” - ‘‘Wecan’t? Why?” asked Ned, disappoint- ‘* Not fur no dollar.” **Oh! bow much do you want?” ‘‘ Lay down two dollars, and I mought talk,” ‘* How’s that, Dick? Pretty steep, isn’t it?’ : - hee steep,” echoed ead, ? capitalists. Jist think how many shines ther’ is in two- take a whole ’rithmetic to doliars. Why, it’d calkerlate them,” remarked Dick. ; ick, shaking his. ** Don’t play on us, old Jack, We ain’t no | JOSS «C