Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 938 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

12 Jugs Brown was nearest to the < ESERIES RIE RAEN Y and, as he recovered a little from his be- wilderment, he ‘lurehed forward and seized the fugitive. The latter found his collar grasped firmly, and, as he had not time to plan or act, he was checked in his flight and nearly pulled over into Jugs’s arms. “I’ve got you!” exclaimed the captor. “Lemme go, you old crook!’ shouted James, Ruthven stalked forward. “Let me settle this!” he cried. “I know this boy, and he and I have a debt to settle—. What?” The sport broke off short. Jingo Jim was not in a mood to settle debts in the way indicated by Ruthven, and he played a trick often practiced among his boy com- ‘panions in safer moments. With an agile movement he squirmed out of his coat, leaving the garment in Jugs’s hands, and then made another rush for the door. This time there was nobody in the way. Jim tore the door open and dashed out into the hall. The place was but dimly lighted, but it was enough for him to discoyer the stairs, and he made use of them promptly. Down he went with leaps so long as to endanger his neck, but he heard the pursuers clatter- ing along in the rear and he did not les- Sen the length of his stride. Doors were opening here and there as Others heard the clatter. ‘What is it?’ “* Fire!” / “* Thieves!” “* Call the police!” These cries, rising here and there, did not quiet the fugitive any, and he kept on until the lower floor and the outer door were reached. He flung the door open and hastened out. He was on the street with the blue sky above him and all New York for a field in which to seek safety. He sought it with despatch, and made no pause un- til he had run to the end of the block. ‘There, seeing that he was not closely pur- Sued, he relapsed into a walk. “Well, James Madison Moss,” he mut- tered, “you hey’ had a pretty close rub. Ef you hadn't been a regular Sheepshead Bay sprinter you would hey’ got snagged the worst way, an’ got it where Adam got } the apple.” The danger was over, and he did some thinking. ‘Guess I may as well call on Aldrick Lee again,” he decided. ‘‘He ought ter goin’ on, or he may know how things i ketch it as much as I hey’. I'll call at his headquarters.” oe Jim went, but Lee was still absent, ‘ad at, the warning could not be given. The ped- oa dler had not forgotten the girl prisoner, -. and he considered how he could help her. he In his business career he had received ep)? more unfriendly words than kind ones from policemen, and he did not have faith in the eraft. He dared not go to a sta- tion now, but he did go to a safe. place, write a note informing the department fe of the fact that a girl was thus held pris- oner, and send the note to the nearest point. This done, he went home, spread his bit nC. of carpet out near Bob, Isaac Levy and a: Simon Skiffsky, and sought slumber. He , slept heavily until late in the, morning, and rose refreshed and ready for action. For the time being he was not a ped- dler, but an employe of Doctor Andrew Walker, so he went to the doctor's hotel. Meeting that gentleman he briskly an- nounced: ‘“‘T'm all ready ter hunt fer the spangled hoss, mister.” Walker rubbed his chin meditatively. “Say!” he presently replied. “Is there ! The Sport of Two Cities. | any place in New York where I can buy a second-hand saddle.”’ 7 we OCr ‘A second-hand saddle.” *W'ot in the world do you want o’ that thing?’”’ “It’s like this. When I first began to practice medicine I went in as assistant to an old man who was getting shaky through his age. The country up that Way was new then, and roads were bad. As a result, the old doctor always used a a horse and saddle and let wagons se- verely alone—didn't use them at all. Of | course, I took up with the same practice, and | have kept it ever since. I still ride on horseback to see my patients.” “But why do you want to buy—” “I need another saddle.” “ Why do ye want a second-hand one?” “It is nearly as good, and I am not so young as I was once.” “ Doc, you don't face me frankly; you are keepin’ somethin’ back, W’'ot is it?” bluntly asked James, Walker moved uneasily, blurted out: “Hang it all! I have lost!” 6 Ob! "? * Yes. All this talk about the spangled horse is nonsense. Such a horse has been stolen, but it never was worth over a hun- dred dollars in Partridge Plains, and no- body need think I—an M. D.—would take all this trouble for that spangled creature. 7 the saddle—that is what I wish to n Res “ An old saddle?” “Yes, well worn; very shabby.” “Doe, come right out with it. You wouldn't take no trouble fer a hundred dollar hoss, but you would fer a shabby saddle. Why?” Walker gave another twist in his chair, and then abruptly cried: “Why, you see there is something in- side of that saddle. That is where the value lies; right inside it. Boy, I must have that saddle.” Jingo Jim's eyes Were wide open and brilliant, “ Describe it!” he requested, quickly. From his pocket the doctor took a paper, and then he proceeded to read a long and careful description. When he was done he looked up over his glasses at his com- panion. “That is how it looks, and—why, what’s the matter with you?” * Doc!” eried the boy, excitedly, “I've seen that saddle!” : The man from Hamilton leaped to his eet. “You have? Where? When? How?" “Wal, as fer that ‘how,’ I seen et with my lamps, but the rest ain’t so favor- able—”’ | “Take me to the saddle at once!” “ Delighted, I'm sure, but I can’t do it. The measly thing has sorter slipped away from me.” “What do you mean? Speak quickly; do not keep me in suspense any longer.” “T won't. I owned that saddle once, an’ used et fer a, piller as long as I had it-.’° “Don't trifle with me, boy. This is no joking subject.” “Just my view of it ,doc. Now, you hold yer bosses an’ hear the facts 0° ‘the case. I will soon put you onto the whole game as fur as I know it, though that won't be much of a gain.” Thereupon Jim told how he had ae- quired the saddle, used it for a pillow for a few hours, and then been mysteriously robbed of it. Walker listened with ill- concealed impatience. “Who could have taken it?’ he de- manded. and then I want to find a saddle J eed, in yo 4 * ot lke Fah Salers avd 4“ é ~_~ : oud + ij Tes aY as ‘ " ‘ a <j sa ~ “Ruthven Stanford, Jugs Brown and ~ Pass company.” . ‘ Stanford—the same man who was up in Partridge Plains?” “Yes, sure.” “Thunder! I do believe you are right. Hurrah, my lad, we are on the track, and we will have that saddle or bu’st! Vie- tory is near!” CHAPTER XIII. THE TWIN CITY TRAIL. The good doctor was so excited that he leaped to his feet, rushed across the room as if in pursuit of the coveted saddle, und was proceeding to do other ececen- tric things when he suddenly recovered his wits a trifle and returned to Jingo Jim. He shook the boy’s hand. * Victory is near!’ he repeated. “Il wish the saddle was the same, ” re- plied James. , “We will find it.’’ “Then all this talk about the spangled hoss ain't meant much, but the search- light is wanted on the saddle. You say there is somethin’ inside the saddle. What is it, ts “TI ean’t tell you now, but when we get it—. Say, can it be the same saddle? Why should Stanford part with it, after so much trouble to get it? There must be & mistake; it is a different saddle. How about the man and the horse you saw when you get your saddle? Were they the same as Stanford and the spangled horse? But, no; your horse died—or he may have come to life after you secured the saddle. Describe the man and the horse,” “The man wasn’t Stanford.” “No? Sure? And the horse?” “Was dead, sure; an’ it wasn’t never a spangled horse.”’ Walker was not willing to be convinced, and he had many questions to ask of Jim. The latter had not forgotten the com- ments of the crowd as he stood by the dead horse that evening. None of them agreed with what Walker said of the spangled horse. The latter had been a plump beast that would weight not over nine hundred pounds in good condition. The dead horse had been thin of flesh, and, according to the crowd, would have weighed thirteen hundred pounds in condition. More, his color did not correspond, and Jim was em- phatie in thinking that it was sure he was not the spangled animal. Still fur- ther, he was sure the “dead horse” had been dead, and, according to the doctor, the spangled one had been seen the night before. “But the saddle can’t have been mine,” persisted Walker. “It was in somebody else's hands, and Stanford surely would not have parted with it, after all his trou- ble to get it.” Eanes he had took out the vallera- es? Again the Soctor leaped/to his feet. “ Horrors!” he eried. ‘Or maybe he didn’t know of the treas- ures in the saddle.” “Why take it, then?” ‘Now you've got me.” “It is discouraging.” “Keep yer courage a-glimmerin’, doc. You see, this Ruthven Stanford, or Tim, as his real name seems to be—” “ His real name is Tim,” “Tim Alberts?” “Can’t say as ter his other name.” “Tr his name is Tim why haven't you told me before? I suspected that. this might be the case some time ago. I had no means of knowing how Tim Alberts looked, and though I saw the man Stan- ford when he was in Partridge Plains. 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