Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 887 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

* . 4 ° Sh eer ‘ ea Si 4 ' wa i : ~ ’ - i > i e, »@ ‘ae \ -~ . 7 fe on, ‘wv eis . % * - } »/ ih - a ve ‘ * Vy wat. " A 4 7 r : ' b ia f . Dh et. Xs ¥ | oY ‘ ‘ / . as a so y. \ é La? . 1 . v* \ 7 es be ee) “a : ay Bs ; ' * : Mat : * HS ’ 2 : n _ © Sree ae) a. . wet on sf ’ 4 4 iy y \ ° - 4 - bs =. é poe (Bat Sten >. ' € — — z . = oe ; am a SS pa <= . oS & —™ @ i> a eo“8 — a em ——_— - with an effort, and that accomplished, wen’ stepping and stumping away. ‘‘T must find that boy,” Le said to himself, further. ‘‘ Heisas keen as anybody I know fer sech work, and I11 bet he will find out what is at the bottom of all this. The way he has helped the police already makes me believe he is goin’ to be the makin’ of a great detective, some of these days, and if I kin help aoe along I’ll do it, true’s my name is Jack ‘rarr.” From one waik the old man _ turned into another, and finally he approached a stand near one of the pillars of the Elevated Road, behind which sat an elderly woman of con- siderable avoirdupois. _**Good-morning, Betsy Sokup!” he greeted her, with a semi-salute. ‘*Good-morning, to you, Jack Tarr!’ was ae response. ‘‘I hope you are well to- ay.” ‘‘Tam quite well, I thank you,” the re- joinder. ‘‘I hope it is the same with you. ave you seen Bobby this morning?” ‘*‘There, now, Jack Tarr, you take the words right out of my mouth, I was just going toask youif you had seen him. I[ wonder where he has gone off to now?” ‘That is hard to say, Betsy Sokup. He is a lively boy, is Bobby, and you can’t bet on his bein’ in one place more’n one minute at one time, I vow. But, I want to see him bad, just now.” ‘* And what for?” ‘*To put detective work in his hands,” ‘* Poo-foo!” disdainfully. ‘* Are youcrazy, Jack Tarr?” ‘‘T should hope not, Betsy Sokup, You won’t deny that Bobby is smart?” ‘* No, tlat’s so; but I’m afraid he isn’t half as smart as he thinks he is, betwixt you an’ me an’ the post.” ‘*Don’t you go for to run him down to me, Betsy Sokup, for I won't listen to it if you do, not one word. 1]’d sooner trust Bobby na ceman, any day.” | ‘** But, he is only a boy.” Bras! ‘‘ With the makin’ of a big man in him.” ‘Tf be don’t get killed runnin’ his nose in- to danger.” . ‘*Oh—ho! that is where it is, I guess; you are afeerd for him, Betsy.” _“ Well, I won't deny; an’ you had orter be ashamed, to come here to run him into more,” , ‘** He'll be in it anyhow, Betsy Sokup, so what’s the difference? But, layin’ that aside for : minnit, have you changed your mind e ” ~ **Not a bit, Jack Tarr. as I’ve said afore—I don’t object to you, but to marry a wooden leg I never have an’ I never will if you are the last man on earth. The old salt heaved a sigh that sent his head to nodding. ‘‘Now, then, what’s the! matter here?” chimed in a cheery young voice at that mo- ment, and Battery Bob bobbed into view. ‘«T know by your puckered lips, Betsy, and by your sad face an’ noddin’ head, Jack, that zou. have been bringing up the old question - again.” elt wasn’t meas done it,” declared the caer, bane my woman, earnestly. ‘No, but it is you that keeps holdin’ off, though,” reminded the old sailor, ‘* You know that I am willin’ enough, Betsy.” ‘‘- Yes, I know you are, Jack; you are only too willin’; but, there is your wooden leg, and marry a wooden leg I never will as long as the world stands, so that is all there is—” ‘* Here, now, cut it short, you two!” or- dered Battery Bob. ‘‘I’m goin’ to take this thing in hand myself.” te You i? I tell you plain From each ot them, “Yes, me. You only keep on higglin’ about it, and you won’t never come any near- . ertoa bargain. Now. don’t you mention it . ' ; - J ae J Py : 7 : a0 oe : et <7 é i - “o* . ? wen os ‘ s 4 . ar a, : . 8. te again, neither of. you, till I give you leave, an’ you see if I can’t make a match of it.” ‘* Not with a wood—” ‘Cork right up, now, Betsy, and not an- other word out of you about-a wooden leg. I am down on my luck this mornin’, and have- n’t had a thing to eat so far. If you would lend meacake ortwotill the bank opens you will do mea favor that won't soon be forgot—” ‘‘Land of goodness, hold your tongue! Here, take ’em, and eat your fill. I allus tell you you are welcome,” ‘ ‘Yes, I know; but you know I’d never think of takin’ a single one without askin’ first. You are the best woman on earth, Betsy Sokup, and Jack Tarr knows it.” ‘As trim a craft as I ever set eyes on,” the old salt heartily coincided at once. ‘‘ Jest about old enough to be stanch and firm in every j’int an’ timber, an’ as steady as the stars.” The old sailor did not know how to pay any higher compiiment. ‘Go along, the both of ye!” the candy- and-cakes woman cried, actually blushing. ‘‘T don’t want to hear another word out of ne. ‘* Yes, we'll go: Betsy,” said Jack Tarr. ‘‘Come along, Bobby, fer I want to see you very p’tic’lar. I have got a case of villain as black as a pirate flag fer you to wor ‘‘ Hello! if that’s the case, Jack, I am with you to the boots. Come slong. we'll have a chatter over it. But, | have got my hands and hair about: as full of de- tective business now as they kin hold, No matter, a p’int or two more won't kill, I uess.” Bidding good-by to the candy-and-cakes woman, they walked off together and found a seat. s vv Jack, what is it?” asked Battery ob. 3 | ‘* First, what is far more important to me, lad, do you mean what you said?” ‘* What I said?” ‘*’*Bout me an’ Betsy.” “Oh! Why, yes, sure; you just leave it to me, Jack, and see if I don’t fetch it out all right for you. Now, what is the case you have got for me to work out?” ne lad, villainy as deep as the roll- ‘‘That’s the stuff; that’s what I was born for, I guess, to pitch into villainy of every sort, kind, an’ condition.” ‘‘T know it, lad, an’ there is the makin’ of a great man in you, I am sure, if you sail by chart an’ compass all your young s. There’s a murder goin’ to be done this night.” | “Whew!” | : ‘‘- Yes, lad, a cold, horrible murder.” “Well, mebby there won’t, if you can give me some pints to work on.” ‘‘ And I[ likely can do that, lad.” ' “You say it is to come off this night, ’cordin’ to programme?” ‘*This very night.” ‘‘ What time, Jack?” ‘* When the clock p’ints about nor’east by nor’, lad.” : _ “ What time’s that?” ‘‘Two bells, second watch, Bobby.” ‘“‘ Well, if that din’t one way to tell time!” ‘That is to say, about one o’clock, lad.” “Then why didn’t you say one o'clock an’ be done with it?” ‘Force o’ Habit, Bobby. A old salt like me can’t be expected to gabble landlubber lingo like men as never sniffed the briny ire op ‘No, I s’pose not; but, s’pose you try keepin’ on one tack, now, fer a brief while an let me into this great mystery that is startin’ the sweat on your wooden leg an’ makin’ your burden heavy.” ‘‘ Bobby, Bobby! boy?” and. Was there ever such a | had done, Battery Bob, the Dock Detective.. “T don't know, Jack, not havin’ lived only this once: but, what is this case? I’m dyin’ to know all about it.” ‘Then I’ll make haste to tell ye, lad.” And this the old salt proceeded to do, in the most roundabout manner that can be imagined. It would weary the reader to quote him. Suddenly Battery Bob lenped to his feet, ‘You say they chucked somebody in the water last night?” he cried. ‘That was what I said, lad. They took paper from him, an’ then into the river he went.’ ‘* Jack Tarr, that somebody was me, yours truly, Battery Bob, Bob Dickery, Diekery Dock, or whatever you please; me, indyvid- ually, an’ nobody else!” ‘You don’t mean it, lad!” ‘Bet your wooden stumper I do, though, Jack! Oh! kawhoop! but you have got jest what I’m after, Jack, the clue to all this p’izen villainy, and if I don’t marry you to Betsy Sokup it will be funny!” CHAPTER VII. BOB PLANTS THE SEED OF A SCHEME. _ - Barrery Bos had leaped to his feet, and was executing a dance on the broad walk. The face of the old sailor had become more serious immediately, if possible, at the mention of the possibility of his union with the woman of his desire. ‘‘Bobby, set ye down here,” he chided, ‘and don’t be makin’ a monkey of yourself. You are makin’ everybody look this way, and if there is one thing I hate more’n an- other it is to be made a object of.” “You'll have to ‘scuse me this time, Jack,” the boy declared. ‘‘I am_ almost: overcome with delerious delight at the pros: peck of bringin’ these rantankerous rascals: up with a round turn in the sweet by and by. Bet your wooden prop there will be a. time in the near henceward!’ ‘Yes, yes, 1 hope so, too; but, do you think it will ever be possible, Bobby, iad?” ‘‘ Possible? Bless your old soul, Jack, it. is as good as done already! If I don’t run them into a trap and capture the whole b’ilin’ of ’em, you can put me up at auction fer a smoked herrin’ an’—” ‘‘No, no, no; I am talkin’ about Betsy Sokup. Do you—” ‘‘Oh! I see. Why, yes, that’s possible, Jack. I’m goin’ to make it work, you bet. I’ll have you prancin’ around in matrimonial harness before you know it, All1 ask of ou is to stand off from Betsy awhile and hare little to say to her; bea little coldish as. it were, and—’ ‘*T couldn’t do that, Bobby, eel | ‘You have got to, that’s all. That’s a. part of my plan. See? You do as I say, and Y’ll fetch you outallright. But, that must be put on the shelf for the present, for I have more weighty business on band jest: now than match-makin’, you bet! Goahead, now, and tell me that whole business over again, only cut out the ands and so forths.” “Well, I hope you will, Roney: I hope ou will, and I’ll do as you say, if I must. t’s see, where did I leave off?” — ‘‘Where they took a paper from me an’ fired me into the river. But, I want it al? over again, right from thestart. Seef This — is the trail I am on, and I don’t want to lose a single p’int.” | So the old salt went over the story again, but this time more briefly and to the point, and in due time Battery Bob was in posses- sion of all the facts in the case so far as the old man knew them, And, adding thisto what he knew before, Bob began to see day-. light. , and fog, however, as yet. « Jack, I’ll be there, you can bet your tel- escope!” the boy cried, when the old sailor pe ‘‘T’]l be there, or losea buttom 4 | tryin’, and if there ain’t a dose o’ physic im - ‘ « -_ _* «thy S we <= on ~ pall ae eee —_ '?_ et ae ee It was a daylight with a good deal of mist. % ae: PI