Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 963 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

Ss hy Was now quite dark in places. A gate opened, and Rube dodged behind a gar- bage box without thinking much about the matter. A gleam from the street lamp at the corner shot a narrow ray of light, across which Rube saw clearly a heavily built, shabby man pass. The gate out of which he had come was that leading into Mr. Rawlins’s back yard. “Wonder what he wanted in there?’ thought Rube, entering the gate and stealthily creeping toward the basement door. “That was a tough-looking feller,” he thought. “If he was up to any mischief I would know him if I ever seen him again. Gee—mineddy! I wish I was sitting down to hot biscuits, bacon and coffee.”’ All the windows of the house were still dark except the upper one, where he had seen Jennie before she came down. ‘ Reckon she must have got back and cleared up the supper things. I swanny! I’m so hungry I just can't stand it. Wonder if I couldn’t slip in and sneak a bite? Uncle Eben would never miss it, and he owes me that much for coming so far to see him, anyhow.” He tiptoed his way to a door that proved to be unlocked. He thrust his head inside, where a half gloom reigned in the corri- dor, that enabled him to see a stairway, down which came the rays of a light from the hall overhead. : Rube felt for the kitchen door, entered and filled his pockets with eatables from a cupboard there, but instead of going out when he returned to the corridor, he thought he would creep up the stairs and see if he could detect any sign of life there, for the utter stillness of the house made him vaguely uneasy. If anything had happened, perhaps Uncle Eben would be glad if Rube found it out, and be then disposed to give his nephew a warmer wel- come. A thought of the shabby mans brutal face strengthened this idea. “That feller just came out of here,” Rube reasoned. “He might have been up to mischief—my goodness! What is that?” He climbed the basement stairs, until he could look down the broad hall leading to the front street door. His eye had fallen on an object that looked like a human form, seated in a chair beside the hat-rack and near the foot of the stairs that led to the floor above. The object was motion- less, and the gaslight further forward was turned down so low as to render the view rather indistinct. As Rube gazed, something about the ai- titude of the figure alarmed the boy; but Rube was Do coward, and determined to investigate further. Step by step he noise- lessly advanced, scanning the shape that moved not at all “Great God-a-mighty!’ he gasped, sud- denly drawing back. “Is that you—is that —a—a knife—” He broke off suddenly, searched his pockets for a match, struck it and held it up above the form in the chair. Then he staggered back agaimst the wall and burst into tears. ' The form in the chair was that of an elderly man, well, though not fashionably dressed. Protruding from the neck was the handle of a dagger, the whole blade of which was buried in such a way that the jugular vein must have been pierced. “ This—beats—my—time!”’ faltered Rube. “Qh, Lord! I wish I had stayed in old Pike, I do!’ — CHAPTER IIL THE MYSTERIOUS PACKAGE. He shook with such a rigor of terror he could hardly stand. Noticing 4 small pack- age on the floor, he mechanically picked it up. As he did so a light step sounded on the stairs behind him and a slight scream gave him another sickening thrill a Ob Mai a — “ ‘' ; _ ‘ ' . 0 ¥ . roby ome *% a) ——a— eo — eo re + The East Side Spotter. He whirled, and beheld a figure in white descending from the landing above. It was Jennie, though she looked almost un- earthly in the half light, clad as she was in her night clothing. She was looking at the dead man, and with horror depicted in every feature. : “Who is that in the Clg?” she de- manded, without appearing ‘& iotice Rube other than by this query. “It is Uncle Eben. Gracious me, Jennie! Who has done this?’ Jennie turned her gaze on the boy as if beholding him for the first time. Then She came down slowly, holding a candle over her head, and peering forward nery- ously. Suddenly she screamed again. “You have done this!’ she cried. ‘You are no nephew. Mr. Rawlins knew what he was about when he turned you out.’ You—you—have killed the—poor—man—” Her words ran into unintelligible gasps and she fell at Rube’s feet, dashing out her light, while at the same moment the front door rattled sharply. as if about to be opened from without. “ Blame it all!’ exclaimed Rube, nearly frightened to death. “ This ain’t no stamp- ing ground for.me. I ain’t killed nobody.” With the instinct of self-preservation strong within him, he ran down the back Stairs, out through the yard into the alley, and thence to the street. Along the payve- ments he hurried for many blocks, until he was out of breath. Then he found that he had retained possession of the package he had mechanically picked up from the feet of the dead man. “I wish I hadn’t touched it!’ he re- flected. ‘Don’t look like it amounts to much, but I was that bad skeered I didn’t know what I was doing. Blamed if I take it back, though. Ugh! I wouldn’t go back there for all of poor Uncle’s money, and father said he had a heap. Hello! ’Secuse me stranger, I— What— that you again?” Some one had bumped into Rube as the two met at a corner. A second look and the two knew each other. “Hi, country! Haven’t you found the police station yet?’ It was the sharp-looking lad in blue he had met somewhat similarly scarce two hours ago, who now inspected Rube in a cool, good-humored way. “No, I haven’t. This is a pesky big town, ain’t it?’’ “Too big for you and me to be meeting up so often. I say; you don’t travel with much baggage.’’ The messenger boy tapped the package under Rube’s arm, whereat the latter grew more nervous than ever. “See here,” said young Rawlins, “ I’m lost, busted, and a stranger. But I’m square, indeed I am. Can't you put me on to some place where I can stay without going to the perlice?’”’ “Why didn’t you try Uncle Eben again?” laughed the other. ‘ Wouldn’t he let up and give you a bunk and a meal?” “No. He—” Then Rube stopped awk- wardly, as if he was about to say too much. “I can’t go to his house any more. Rube Rawlins is my name. What is yours ?” ‘‘Never mind mine, country. I’m in a hurry, now. Got another message to go on time. Meet me in half an hour, first block east of the Grand Central Depot, and I will take you to a Home. Clean beds, bang-up feed, and if you’re broke you can work out the pay next morning. Look sharp, now. Such chaps as you are about as safe in New York as a pig in a slaughter house.” The youth in blue yanished, and Rube wandered on, holding tight to the package in a mechanical way. He inquired for the depot, and finally passed it half a block _ oe! oe 7 3 away, then straggled into a region where the houses were shabby and the saloons numerous. The further east he went the more forbidding did the neighborhiod ap- pear. * Hello, cully! Which way so fast, me ox-eyed daisy?” A hard-featured, middle-aged woman, whose breath was rank with rum, suddenly appeared on one side of him, while another somewhat younger, yet fully as brazen, linked her arm within his on the other. “Who be you two?’ demanded Rube, striving to release himself. ‘‘ Let go of Me, Where is the Grand Central Deepot?’”’ “It’s all right. We'll show ye the way prisintly, my kid. But first, we'll thry a glass av mixed ale at the Howl in the Wall, here. Come in, me dear. Don’t. be so moighty backward, now—there’s a dar- lin*!” While speaking, the -two had hustled Rube into a low groggery, despite his strug- gles. He aimed a blow with the package at one of the women, but a huge, hairy hand interposed from behind and jerked the parcel from the boy’s fingers. Then the same force shoved him through an inner door, Where he fell on a floor sprinkled with sawdust. Rube sprang up,’ but be- fore he could run off a man thrust himself between the women and the boy and held out the package. ‘Here you are,”’ said the fellow. “Take ve’r bundle and set ’em up for the ladies afore I wipes the flure wi’d ye. D’ye hear?” j But as Rube looked at the man his own face grew pale, and he shrank into a cor- ner, for before him was the face of the stout, shabby man, whom he had seen leaving the yard of his uncle’s house just previous to Rube’s discovery of the corpse. “IT want to get out!’ shouted Rube, in a voice that brought the barkeeper out from behind the bar, while a. third man siuntered forward from the rear of the saloon. This last comer was about sixty, with bull-like shoulders and a great mop of matted hair that straggled through sundry rents in his hat. His big, purplish face was smirched with dirt and his eyes were bloodshot and watery. His jaw was as heavy as that of a bulldog. ‘“What’s d’e matter now?” he demanded in a husky tone. “Let d’e kid alone, Steve. If he’s goin’ to act d’e gentleman, what's d’e use er all d’at bluff. D’e kid’ll treat. ’Course he will. I sées it in his eyes,” This adroit confirmation of the idea that he was expected to pay for the drinks all around was not lost on Rube. Steve blocked up the doorway leading to the street. The boy felt nervously in his pockets. “I can’t treat, ‘cause I ain’t got any money!” he faltered. “ A feller with two pals robbed me—” * Rats!” hissed Steve, ironically. ‘ Look a-here, kid. What you got in d’is bundle?” He again had hold of the package and was scrutinizing it closely. Rube trem- bled as he watched him, but it was evident that Steve did not seem to recognize the parcel. “What's d’is’” he reiterated, in a more peremptory tope. ‘* [-[—ain’t just able to tell,”’ stammered Rube. “In fact, I don’t know. Indeed I don’t, sure as preaching.” ‘* A—a—h! feller!’”’ Steve, as he spoke, took out his knife. “I’m goin’ ter see what you're kerryin’ around, just for givin’ me d’at stiff.”’ Steve cut the cord and opened the wrap- per, while the others crowded about cu- riously. Then he started and his jaw fell in undisguised amazement, while sundry ° , - O f _—s 7 RS Don’t be too fresh, young