Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 935 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

’ >" ; 7 * 8 The Ex-Newsboy Detective’s Chum. a eee - ** How ?” ** Let Mrs. Achterson say.” “Why, certainly; 1 would know, the lady declared. “1 did not want to trouble you in that way. madam, and Cause you a pang of pain if it did happen to be hers.” “Yet you gave her more trouble,” sumed Ambler. “My object would have remained hid- den but for your question.” * Ah, true; pardon me.” Mrs. Achterson had by this time found a letter in her: daughter’s writing, and, first looking at it, she handed it to the detective. Phillips saw at a glance that the writer of the note he had found in Wellstone’s trunk and the writer of this letter were the same person, and he handed the letter back, ‘1 see it is not the same, in order to avoid further comment the matter. “Then may we ask what it was you found?’’ inquired Ambler. “It is of no importance now, sir.” “Pardon me.” There was a pause, then, and there was only one thing for Mr. Ambler to do, which was (pardon so execrable a pun) to amble. * Well, I will take leave, Mrs. Achtem son,” he said, rising. “Needless for me to assure you that my heart bleeds for you in’ your trouble. I shall be eager to hear of the recovery of the body—” ‘‘You shall hear, sir; you shall hear,” was eagerly interrupted. “And you, Mr. Phillips, do your very best in the matter, and leave no stone un- turned—not only in this case, but in the other as well. I shall be eager to have you call on me.” “ will do so, shortly,” the detective promised. Ambler bowed then, and left the room and the house. No sooner had he gone out than Phillips said to Bob: “T will excuse you, Bob. You get what information you can in another direction and report to me when you find there is nothing more to be had, Be off with you now.” “ All right, boss, I understand,” and Bob lost no time in making his exit. He understood that he was to watch Mr. George Ambler, and learn what was pos- sible in that particular direction. ) He quickly caught sight of his suspect. “ Now, madam,” remarked the detective, as soon as Bob had gone; “have you been holding something back from me?’ The woman started. “Why, no, sir,’ she answered. ‘You told me that Mr. Wellstone was your daughter’s accepted lover.” ‘Yes; so he was, sir.” “Then you were not aware that he was a married man, of course.” “A married man! Heavens! no!’ “Such he was, none the less.” *T cannot believe it, Mr. Phillips. seamed the soul of honor.,”’ “his will prove it to you, then, madam,” taking the letter from his pocket and handing it ta her. . Tt was the letter he had found in Well- stone’s trunk. ‘My daughter's writing!’ the woman exclaimed, the moment her eyes fell upon it. “You reeognize it. Well, read it.” “Merey! she was his wife already!’ ‘ So it appears, madam, and for some reason Wellstone had desired it kept a secret.” . “What mystery is here?” ‘That remains to be discovered, Madam. It i8 no trifling one, be assured of that. ” Sir, ilS- he observed, upon He ‘ f semen, ” - * —EEE - —E een There is some powerful motive some- where.” ‘But you are unable to discover it?” “TT have not had time yet to work upon the ease. I have searcely begun.” “Then, in merey, to work and clear the matter up! This suspense is more than | ean bear! My daughter married? I can- not realize that it was so.” “Yet you hold the proof of it in your hand.” ‘*No doubting it.” “That is the proof I wanted, madam.” ‘What is?’ “The proof that your daughter was the writer of that nete. I recognized the writ- jing the moment you showed it to me—” “Yet you declared that you did not.” “For a purpose. Will you keep this knowledge secret for a time?’ “If you desire so; it shall not be made known to a living soul.” “T know I ean trust you, or I would not have let you into if with me. Now, does this suggest anything to your mind?” *} do not understand, sir.”’ “What I mean, then, this may possibly open to your nind some new theory in re gard te a motive.” “It does not, sir. it more complicated than ever. the body of my child stolen? Robert Wellstone murdered? than I can grasp.” * Was there any property at stake?” ‘*None, save that insurance.” “But, you have some wealth?” “Only enough to keep up a moderate appearance, sir.” “Then we must look to Mr. Wellstone’s side of the house for the explanation, I think.” ‘‘ But, sir, my daughter’s body? Where ean that be? What have they done with the dear form? Oh, sir, you must recover it, or I cannot long retain my reason!’ “If it is to be found, madam, believe me I will restore it to you. Now I will taRe my leave, in order not to excite you need- lessly. You must force a calmness if pos- sible.” ‘*T have tried, but it is impossible. You are my only hope, sir, and if you fail me, then all is lost!” “T will not fail you!” Joe Phillips prom- ised. If anything, it makes Why was Why was It.is more CHAPTER X. BOB GETS IN A LICK. Business Bob was equipped with some changes for disguise. When he set out to follow George Am- bler one of the first things he did was to spring a false mustache fast to his lip. These things had been provided for him by Phillips, whose apprentice he really was, and from him he Imad taken more lessons than one during the time he had been in his employ. Bob knew many & “wrinkle” well worth knowing, in connection with the profes- sion. Ambler had set forward at a lively pace. The address he had given the detective was in New York, but Bob soon made up his mind that he was not going in the direction of New York now. Or, if he was, then he did not know much about Brooklyn, and did not know the nearest route from the part of the city he was now in. But, that was not it, as Bob wad to admit presently. From one street to another the man went,. and onee or twice he looked back, as if to make sure that he was not. being followed. Finally, he reduced his pace, and at last ascended the steps of a house. Bob noticed that he did not ring, but let himself in with a key, which was proof in itself that he was no stranger there, : 7 2 . - - - ~ » ‘ 7 i ie 2G vr Mi ae, ‘ f | fag Tad : ty . - re Bed op i Pd \ I Mf ~ O98 a : ¥ ye. nr w J vi, ¢é Sage wi : <1 tile Poked Suhly 4 A ‘ : Cn aay 4 «jay arf q aL ec Ps Ce Pilate hie Gaby Milinshiy ORE seh eee —_—~- oe ‘Great Gowanus!” Bob exclaimed to himseif. “What is up now? If he is at home here and has a place in New York besides, he must be a sort of double, 1 sus- pect.” He sauntered past the house, and noted its number without appearing to give it attention. When he had gone a little distance past he stopped. A doctor’s gig was standing by the eurb, and passing around that he made a change in his disguise in that brief time. On the opposite side of the street, and nearly opposite the house into which Am- bler had disappeared, was a house without a tenant, and crossing over to that, Bob sat down on the steps. * Now,” he said to himself, “come what may, [ am prepared for it. I have seored one point, if I don't get any more.” He had been there only a little time when he heard: ‘**On d’ese cars you need no fan, D’ey run on d’e air line plan; Jes’ lay back, as on she go, Let the win’ fr’'u’ yo’ whiskers blow.”’ “Great Gowanus!” cried Bob, straight- ening up and looking. “That song is the nightmare of my existence, and I see’ no way to get rid of it except to kill the nig, and I hate to do that. Here he comes, right this way, and who ever heard such stuff as that?’ ** When a lady git aboard, Give yo’ seat up like a lord; Mo" de car might give er flap, An’ seat de lady, on yo’ lap.’ “Worse and worse!” exclaimed Bob. “I'd like to heave a payin’ block at his head, but it wouldn't do, for he would holler out my name, and that might upset the soup. I’d holler at him and tell him to shut his black face up, but that would be as bad. Guess I'll have to grin and bear it until he passes out of hearing, and I hope he won’t be long about it,” “Ef yo’ ; ; ; Carty ya Giacatiecne. 3 i en f yo’ wear a diamon’ pin, Don’ set whar’ d’'e sun come in!”’ Bob was looking around for a loose stone, a brick, or something, but just as that verse was finished the darky came to his destination, He mounted the steps of the same honse into which Ambler had gone! “ Great Gowanus!” again exclaimed the apprentice, with more, than his usual vigor. “What is takin’ him there, I wonder? If this pudding ain't gettin’ thick, then I'd like to know it!” Pete pulled the bell, and Bob dropped his head and watched the door out from under the brim of his hat. Little or nothing of his face could be seen. Some one opened the door, and Pete de livered a note. The person said something and closed the door again, and the darky waited, breaking out into song and reeling off three or four more verses. The door presently reopened, the same person gave a note into Pete’s hand, to- gether with something that had the glint of a silver coin. The darky grinned and doffed his hat as he accepted it, descend- Ing the steps and hastening off at once, the person at the door looking after him for a moment. Pete went singing with even more vim than ever, and Bob did not stir while the door was held open. Kven after it bad been closed he waited a little longer. : When he got up he sauntered off lazily and leisurely, as if he had nothing to do, and all day to do it in. Once away from the house, however, he quickened his pace, and ere long came up with his darky friend, who was still sing- cbhooks:cc