Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 963 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

es FE ha TERY = —E . ere about all that interrupted the monot- © ony Of desertion. tt was more difficuit here to avoid ob- ation, but Adam was equal to the task. When the m:n looked back the boy was behind a lamp or awning post, or had darted inte a doorway. Once a big police- ee looked at him suspiciously. Adam oldly asked him for the whereabouts of a certain street nearby. His look of bland inquiry disarmed the officer’s mind of cur- iosity. As he gave the lad the direction, Adam, from the corner of his eye, saw the man he was following turn a water-side corner and disappear. He darted away as soon as he could do so without attracting the policeman’s at- tention again, and cut across a small-fish market shed that occupied about half a block of the street. This course he took, fecling sure that the man he was shadow- ing would pass the further end of the mar- ket. Arriving there, he waited behind a closed fish stall for a moment, yet no shabby man appeared. Adam, growing uneasy, anathe- matized the policeman for the delay he had caused, and ventured forward beyond the market far enough to look along the water front, down which he felt sure that his man would go. But only a vision of empty pavements was to be seen, except where the lights from a bar-room shon® on several loungers on the curb before the saloon doors. “He must have gone into the saloon,” thought the boy. ‘‘ No other way for him to slip away from here that I can see,” Adam, feared to venture into the place lest he should be recognized by the spy. This would have spoiled his plan, which was, if possible, to see where the shabby man went and with whom he was asso- ciated. While the boy detective was reflecting, two men suddenly emerged from the bar- room and turned to the left toward Adam. The boy had just time to spring into a doorway and press himself into a corner as the couple passed. One was the shabby man. The other looked like a countryman in his garb, but to the ‘youth’s keen perception, his manner was that of a city-bred individual. They passed within six feet of the lad, who, as he gazed, felt, intuitively, that he had seen this countryman before. “What did you lose him for?” angrily demanded the latter, as they slowly passed. “That kid is as slippery as an eel,’ re- plied the shabby man. ‘I did my best.’ “You must find him again, before morn- ing. I say you must. Meantime, I must go and change these duds. I have an ap- pointment—”’ That was all Adam could hear as the two passed on, He followed at a safe distance until he suw the couple separate at a cor- ner. Then he kept after the supposed countryman. | “ Little of the country do you see,” mut- tered the lad to himself. “If you ain't that false uncle they have been stuffing me about, Im no peach. But I wami to know who you are, and as I can spare a little more time, I think I will try and find out.”’ | The countryman certainly threaded the Brooklvn streets as if he knew very well where he was. Up out of the dingy water- side region he came, and fimally took a Bridge car for New York. The boy de- teclive was close behind, and as the coun- tryman went inside the lad leaped on to the rear platform, where he was, fortun- ately, not disturbed by being told to go in- side, He peered through a window at the ob- | ject of his curiosity, but could not place the fellow. A heavy beard covered a large - portion of the man’s face, and a broad- ] The East Side Spotter. i i i 8 eee + me oe ee ee brimmed hat was drawn Well forward, thus further concealing his features. At the New York end .of the Bridge Adam sprang off and followed the country- man skillfully through the crowd down to the Third Avenue elevated station. The two entered the same car and Adam sank into an obscure corner. When the countryman got out, the boy detective was as close behind as was safe, nor did he lose sight of the man, until he saw him enter an up-town house in an aristocratic neighborhood. As Adam saw the fellow let himself in with a latch-key, he muttered: ‘A gay countryman you are. much one as I am a giraffe.”’ Then the spotter consulted his watch and found that he could wait there thirty min- utes without interfering with his other plans for the night. “1 w'll do that,’ he determined. ‘‘Some- thing may turn up that will give me a hint as to Who this masquerading country chap is. I feel it in my bones that he is the man who is pretending to be Rube’s uncle to some folks that will soon see what chumps they have made of them- selves.”’ So Adam ensconced himself in a nook near by, and warily watched; but at the expiration of half an hour no one had ap- peared from the house into which the sup- posed countryman had gone, and the young shadower was about to give it up and turn away, feeling that he could spare no more time to this feature of the investigation. when a sharp voice behind him made him start violently “ What are you doing here, boy?’ Adam looked to see a man on the steps of the nearest house surveying him suspiciously. “ I—I was waiting for some one—” hbe- gan Adam, when, at th's instant, the door of the house the lad had been watching opened and a well-dressed, handsome man triped down the steps and walked rapidly up the street. “There he goes now, See you later, old man.” And off went Adam, in the wake of his human quarry, leaving his unknown juter- locutor looking very much surprised. The boy detective was very much surprised himseif. The man before him who was making for the nearest East Side street line, was of a strongly-marked personal appearance. He wore side whiskers. Adam had met him twice and had seen him once. He felt sure that he recognized him: now. “If that isn’t John Sylvester, I am a fool!” he ejaculated. ‘“ So this is where the false uncle comes in. Wonder if he really took old Sloper in?’ Sylvester boarded a down-town car. The boy detective felt that his case was almost complete. ‘Now I must hustle,” he thought. “Meg mustn’t be kept waiting.’ CHAPTER XYITI. THE SPY IN THE COAL SHED. It was about an hour before midnight. At the Hole in the Wall a general good time seems to be going on. The gang are all there except Steve Slooger. Doubtless Steve would like to be there, but fate and the thick walls of a police cell are, just now, very much in the way of any indul- gence on his part in the luxury if individ- ual desires. His burly, brutal-looking father, how- ever, oecupied the seat of honor in that convivial circle. Old Slooger’s hard red eyes shine as he jokes with an apprecia- tive knot of listeners around. Seated on an empty beer keg, heated by red liquor, and ever watchful to see that money is Kept go- ing over the bar for drinks, he looks like what he is—the evil genius of the place. Leary Kate and several ether hard-look- About as 1s. ing females are scattered about among the male toughs, though Meg Slooger is not to be seen there. In fact, Meg seldom lingers. long in the saloon. Perhaps she finds that the coarse associations are less welcome since her mother’s death, a year or so pre- vious to the events recorded in this tale. Meg, besides being buxom and comely, is not without a certain degree of natural re- finement. The side door finally opens and Meg Slooger enters. She goes to the bar and makes Slosson draw her a pitcherful of something hot, strong and fragrant. While this is being done, one of the.men seated at an obscure table rises a 1 furtively slips out at the front door. (© ce outside, however, he whips into the eo ered alley- way and intercepts the girl as she comes out, closes the side door behind her, and looks around, as if expecting some one then and there. ‘Hello, Meg!" whispered the fellow, passing an arm around her waist and giv- ing it a caressing squeeze. “Glad you are on time, sweetness!’ “Turn me loose! she exclaimed, not angrily, but in a sort of good-natured alarm. .“‘ Somebody may be looking or lis- tening.”’ “ Well, they won't see much, out here. As for listening, they will only hear me tell you what a peach you are, Meg. A—a—a—ht If | was only a year or two older I'd be your own young man. D’ye get on ta my rig? The fellow turned himself about in the half light that streamed through the ground glass of the door. “My sakes!” she exclaimed. “I never would have known you but for your voice and your—your imperdence. For a_ kid you're the freshest young geranyum I ever met.” ‘Have to be. If I wasn’t fly the girls would give me the dead shake every time.” “That's what I ought to do, I guess. But—Lord! I know when I get a jolly. Say, Adam—”’ * H—s—s—t! No names out here, my girl! Let us get out of this. It is-too pub- lic a place here for yours truly.” They stole across the back yard, and up a few steps. Then Meg ushered her com- panion into a kind of coal shed at the back of the house, which has been mentioned before as the place from which the dis- guised Sylvester had escaped. The dis- guised lad shuddered as he strove to look about. “ This is a rotten hole,’’ he whispered. ‘How long must I wait?’ “Not long. It’s the best I can do for you.” “I suppose that infernal scoundrel has just arrived, Meg?’ “Yep. He’s cmelly nervous. I have fixed him up a drink, though I'd like to Smash his toplights with this pitcher. in- stead. Will you stay her and keep. quiet?’ “What else can I do? I haven’t got wings to fly off with, have I?” “ By climbing up on the coal you ean look through that chink yonder. But make no noise. He’s as s’picious as a rat when the cat's about. _Mum’s the word for you now, whatever you see or hear.” She glided noiselessly away and entered the house by the door on the front or oppo- Site side. The young spy crawled stealth- ily up on the pile of coal to where a narrow Streak of light was darting through @& Smali aperture in the wall, caused doubt- less by a settling of the frame of the house, The plastering inside had also fallen away, and the outsider could peep without dificulty into the same small apartment where Rube and Sylvester had both been detained for short intervals. Inside now was John Sylvester, dressed