Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 938 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

-yere arraignment, an’ you ain’t even on the same street with it. Pretty fix! Oh, James, when will you learn ter mind ye’r own biz?” It seemed to be wise questioning, but it did not relieve his mind in the least. He tried his bonds, and found them too strong to be broken, so he gave it up. The door leading to the other room was not wholly closed, and he could look out. Mother Mag and Jugs sat down and °¢n- joyed a smoke together, and the prisoner seemed to be forgotten. Half an hour passed, and then the old woman leaped to her feet. * The lad!” she exclaimed. A door opposite to Jim’s prison opened and a man entered the room where the woman and Jugs sat. “ Great guns!” gasped the boy. Until thah moment the prisoner's phleg- matic nature had enabled him to keep out- wardly cool, but he was frightened, at last. Taking the past as a guide, the fu- ture looked very threatening. The new-comer was Ruthven Stanford. CHAPTER XI. 1 JIM’S OLD ENEMY. “ By crickey! I guess I'm gone up now 79 “ Jingo Jim muttered the words, and there was no disputing the fact that his situation had grown serious. Ruthven Stanford was there, and it was certain that he would be told of the capture made by Mother Mag and Jugs, and if he did not want to look ait the prisoner it would be strange. It quickly became clear that the sport was not in good humor. The old woman swooped down upon him, and her usually coarse face changed perceptibly. “ Welcome, laddy!” she cried. “Sight av you is good for sore eyes. Here is a chair, deary; come an’ take it. Are you hungry? Sure, I'll set out the best the house has.” Stanford threw himself down in the chair viciously. . “Let me alone!’ he growled. “ But you must be hungry. I have some corned beef and cabbage—” “To thunder with it! a Welsh rarebit.”’ “Well, a cup of tea.” 6,’ 4a s My poor dear, you are all tired out and sick. Sure, Tim, you work too much—” “That will do,’ snapped Stanford. “How often must I tell you not to call me Tim? My name is Ruthven Stanford.” “Your name was Timothy when you lay on me lap an infant, an’ the name was your father’s, an’, sure, it was good enough for him, an’ it ought ter be fer you.” This assertion came angrily from Mother Mag, but she quickly repented of her se- tender air, she added: ; “ But I forgot you have gone up in the world. Your father an’ me was humble people, an’ anything was good enough fer us—even plain names—but your mother loves you, deary, an’ she can see you are a grand man now—handsome and rich, deary—and, sure, nobody rejoices more than I do. I am proud av me son. Yes, an’ I’m proud ay your position in society, - an’ the way you hey’ gone up in the world from the humble attic where I reared you—” | ‘“‘T may go higher yet.” “ Sure, is there hope?” d _“ Hope!” ly. ‘Yes, the same hope that all men have who see the electrie chair before them.” “Ouw!” cried Mother Mag, shrillly. “Have you killed somebody?” | “ Oheese it!” snapped the sport, angrily. “Will you call in the police? No, I ain't - killed anybody, but this game is running far from the still waters, . may do me up yet.” That Aldrick Lee I have just had Again assuming her repeated Ruthven, sarcastical-— + 7 ye a y te é - : § : “ - 1 é : ~~ ~ —_ ey . iy a . ‘The Sport of Two Cities. ee “Ts he tryin’?’ demanded the old wom- , an, her eyes blazing. ‘*T don’t know, but I rather wish I had kept my hands off from Lee. The game is making too much trouble and bringing } me too much risk. I wish I had kept out of it.” * But that would have let Lee get the money.” “ He will probably get it now.” ‘* Laddy, will you give it up?” cried Mag, her eyes flaming anew. ** No.”’ , “Then why do you say he will get it.” “Never mind.” If Ruthven had explained he would have referred to his effort to put the young boatman out of the way, and his serious doubt that he had succeeded, and the fears of consequences. As his mother did not know of his attempt.on Lee’s life, he re vealed nothing now. “It is a bitter shame that.Al Lee should come between you and yours!’ cried Mag, warmly... “He hasn’t the right, an’ I will kill him with me own hands before he shall rob my laddy?’ “ Say!” interrupted Jugs Brown, sudden- ly, “we have forgotten one thing, aunt Mag,”’ * What?’ sé The boy "7 The old woman leaped to her feet. “Sorry the hour!” she cried, “that kid may have heard all we hey’ said here.” “What kid?” asked Ruthven. “We caught a boy spyin’ on us, an’ so we seized him, an’ he’s here now.” “Here? Where?’ “In the next room.” -‘* And we have been cackling like geese! Malediction! What have you been think- ing of, woman?’ “TI forgot the kid,” replied Mag, whin-- ingly. “So did I,” added Jugs. “Tm a gone goose!’ muttered Jingo Jim, in hig prison. ‘They will come in now, an’ Sporty Stanford will recognize me, an’ then it will be worse for me than Daniel in the lions’ den.”’ Ruthven was alarmed, and he pursued his interrogations. “ Who is the boy?’ “Only one av the kids o’ the neighbor- hood,”’ replied Mag, anxious to shield her- self from censure. | “Oh! What was he doing?’ “ Talkin’ with Kate. I suppose it was somebody that knew her, an’ kids will meddle, ye know.” The sport looked relieved. It had not occurred to him to connect the meddle- some boy he kuew of with this news, for it would have appeared too wild, a possi- bility to be considered, but the remark that the prisoner was one of the boys of eed neighborhood had relieved him not a little. , * We shall soon have a houseful of cap- tives,” he grumbled, ‘“‘Never mind, though; we won't stay here long ourselves. One of these fine nights we will fly the coop, and then they can starve here for all I care.” | The trio drew to one side and began to talk in tones too low for Jingo Jim to hear anything. He was temporarily saved from } meeting the eyes of the sport, but this did } not make him feel at ease. If Ruthvyvra did not come in to take a look at him later on it would be a wonder, and danger still loomed up ominously. “Why can’t I get out o’ here?’ mur- mured James. ‘This is a measly fix, an’ I shall not peddle no more jumpin’ kanga- | roos unless I git a hustle on right quick.” He wrestled with his bonds again, but | they were too much for him. | “Ef I only had a knife,” he thought, wishfuliy, | 11 He had one, but it was in his pocket, He did not see how he could get it. Next, he considered the possibility of biting the cords in two, but when he tried it he found he could not get his teeth upon the cords. “Tt’s the knife or nuthin’!"’ he decided. Danger makes people persistent, and he began to twist and squirm to accamplish his ambition. He could hope for help from nobody else, and he dared not pause to think seriously on what Ruthven Stanford would do when he learned who the pris- oner was. Jim twisted until he bade fair to tie hime self up in a hopeless knot, but for a time it seemed useless. Finally, however, he succeeded in working a hand into the pocket where the knife was. He grasped the precious article; he brought it out; he managed te open it. “ Crickey!’ he thought, exultantly, “al? hope ain’t gone yet. Ef I can’t saw off these cords, 1 am a clam.” He began the attempt, but his position was such that he could not work to ad- vantage. He drew the blade, and, though Several twinges of pain told him that he was carving Away at his wrists, as well as the cords, he kept it up. Suddenly his face grew radiant. There was a sudden loosening of the pressure op his wrists. | He pulled lustily; the cords fell away! “By gum! I guess I’m in the swim!” he murmured. A few more strokes of the knife and he was Wholly free. Victory was. his, thus far, and he turned to the future. “Now,” he thought, ‘‘how kin I git out? I don’t want no skirmish with them, so I will make a soft-footed campaign of it. I must sneak out on the dead quiet—” Just then Ruthven stirred in the next room and rose from his chair. Some mat- ter which had been under discussion was settled. The sport yawned widely. “IT must get to bed and to sleep,” he re- marked; “but, before I go, I will look at your boy prisoner. I want to see what he is like. It is bast for me to size him up fully, though I doubt not he is some med- dlesome neighborhood kid, as you say. Bring him out!” - “Great guns!” aghast. | The meaning of this new turn of events flashed upon him. The sport was still un- suspicious, but if he once saw the peddler it would be very different. “T have got ter do somethin’!”” ex- claimed James. “What? What can I do? They mustn't git their grippers on me—I must run!’ muttered Jingo Jim, It was an abrupt decision, but, really, the only one open to him; He had noticed that the gang had not locked the door by which Ruthven entered, and, of course, that door led to the open air. “Here goes!” cried the prisoner. He flung the door of his own room wide open and dashed out. All of his foes were on their feet, and they stared in blank wonder at his appearance. F ‘ Good-night!” shouted Jim, and he dashed toward the hall @oor. JINGO-JIM'S BIG SURPRISE. Jingo Jim had hoped that he would not only be able to escape, but to avoid recog- nition, but Ruthven Stanford had sharp eyes. The trio of conspirators all looked surprised for a moment, and then the. sport’s face lighted up. | “Lee's boy!’ he exclaimed. James did not pause to argue the point. He. was making long steps toward the hall door, and pow stretched his legs all the more, .