Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 963 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

| | : : . ~—— OO ee -* aap hee “ - m = i* “4 ~ - * + e * cg a I a IT A ” — of 7 af -_—--- ——~-— _ — ———_ will sneak your green. Then—where are you? What d’ye say now?’ “My coin is all right,’ responded the visitor, looking vaguely uneasy, however, “* The man who does me will have to be up early.” Then he yawned, under the effect of his previous potations. As his eyes closed for a second, old Slooger crooked his finger at the open door. Two of the toughs rushed in and slapped a plaster over the country- man’s mouth, while two more cast a blanket over his head. He was thrown back and his hands tied securely in a twinkling. While this went on, Mr. Slooger was leisurely emptying his new friend’s pock- ets, while the latter lay bound, gagged and helpless. The old man began to investi- gate the wallet. Suddenly he swore a dreadful oath and threw it on the floor, and its contents were scattered in every direction. “Green goods!” he yelled, while the other men, stooping down, examined the contents in turn and also added their ex- clamations of disgust. “The bloke ain’t got a dollar of good coin about his clothes. That's the kind of hairpin he is!’ Thrusting his coarse, bloated face into that of the supposed Missourian, old Slooger shouted: “You ain’t no Western’ greenhorn! You're a fraud. You’re working some graft for the police; that is about your size. I kin read ye, and even ye up yet. See?’ The prisoner shook his head. But old Slooger was in a towering passion. He Kicked the helpless man a time or two. “Come on, boys!” he roared, “ Pick up them green goods. It’s the first time any man ever tried to work that game in the Hole in the Wall. But this feller ain’t out of here yet. Where is. Meg?’ he angrily demanded. The girl came in from the yard. She eyed the supposed countryman closely for a moment, The blanket had been taken off, though the gag remained, and he was otherwise quite helpless. “Keep an eye on this chap, Meg!” or- aiered her father. ‘“ Don’t let him loose or I will break every bone in your body, d'ye hear?’ Meg, with her arms folded in her apron, nodded, keeping her eye on the stranger. Old Slooger went out, saying: “Come on, boys, we must see d’e gang about this. There’s more in this graft then we kin see yet.” Flinging the helpless prisoner on the bed, they all went out except Meg, who, when the door closed behind them, crossed over to the prisoner’s side and looked at him again. She pulled the plaster off and re- moved his glasses, which were fastened to his head by a string extending behind the ears. AS she looked, something about the long, gray beard and mustache attracted her notice. These she roughly jerked away, revealing harsh, dark, yet handsome features, that bore closely trimmed side-whiskers. <A pair of black, restless eyes watched her anxiously now that the glasses had been removed. “So it is you!’ she exclaimed, drawing back. “I thought L noticed something fa- miliay under your make-up.” “Untie my hands, won't you?” entreated the man. assuming am air of affectionate tenderness. ‘‘ Please, Meg.” “What for, I would like to know?’ ‘Because I am anxious to leave this place. It don’t seem to be healthy for me he ”” at present.” ‘What did you come here for? All that stuff you told the others don’t go down ‘with me.” “‘T came here to see you, Meg.” ee — eee: CHAPTER XII. MEG SLOOGER ON GUARD. Meg’s full red lip eurled incredulously. “That’s a blooming lie, and you know it!’ she retorted, at the same time kicking at a counterfeit bill which had been left ly- ing on the floor. ‘* Was you bringing such stuff as that to me? It would be like you. But you can’t fool me any longer with your fine tales. I’ve been jollied enough.” * You don’t understand me, Meg.”’ “Don't I! I think I do, now. But it isn’t safe for you to come back here where you've done so mueh mischief already.” “Is being stuck on your shape doing mischief, Meg? If it is, I cannot help it, Let me loose, Meg dear, and—’” “It was through you that Steve got pinched,” interrupted Meg, earnestly. “We know that now.” * Let me loose, I say, and I will explain everything.”’ “T’ve had quite enough of you, John Syl- vester—”’ * H-s-s-h! Not that name here, Meg. Call me Burpee—that is a good little girl.” “Don't chivvy me up any more. I've had enough of all that, I say.” | “Well, then, you know what I want. Where is it?’ ‘Where is what? I’m no witch.’ “A witch you have been to my poor heart. You know what I want, Meg. The package I lost when I met you last.” “How should I know where it is? Speak plainer, if you want straight goods from me.” The speaker ground his teeth in ineffect- ual anger. Then his manner changed again, as he said: “Now, Meg, you must remember that as I was talking with you—” “You mean that while you were finding out from me where Steve was, so the cops could lag him. See?’ ‘No, indeed!’ Yet he looked rather guilty as the girl eyed him keenly. “You willfully misunderstand me. But while 1 was at your window, somebody stole my pack- age.” “Tt was no bundle of yours, John Syl- vester. Wherever it has gone, you will never see it again.” Again his anger got the uppermost, as. he exclaimed: “Tf I was only loose I would show you whether I ean be thus robbed with im- punity.”’ “Yes, but you are hard and fast. More than that, if I was to tell my father how you have treated me, he would beat the life out of you. Then your putting the cops on to Steve for doing your dirty work—” * Not so loud, Meg, for Heaven’s sake!” entreated Sylvester, all at once strangely cowed for some reason, ‘“ Have pity on me, Meg dear. I—I am afraid of your father. He may not like it when he finds out who I am.” ‘*Bet your life he won't. He knowed you wasn’t no green countryman.’ Meg spoke contemptuously. “But he found out that you had, as he thought, a good-sized wad, and that was enough for him. If I was to tell him all you have done or tried to do—”’ “But you won't. You did like me once, Meg, and you will shrink from splitting on me in that fashion. See! Am I not help- jess in‘ your hands?” “T will tell you what I will do,” she re- turned, eyeing him narrowly, but without a trace of regard. ‘‘Remember, first, that the package of money is gone.” “But I shall get hold of it again.” “Well, then, if that is your purpose, I will just let my father settle with you. He knows you are not to be trusted.” “No, no; I will be obedient. I swear I will. Only get me out of this and all shall be as you wish.”’ The East Side Spotter. | ) ey a a 2) GT 9 eee SO ~ - — -_—- $$$ ee — - ——— ao Meg rose, unlocked an old trunk, and tak- ing something therefrom, she held it up before Sylvester’s eyes. His face became the color of ashes, and his eyes, as he stared, seemed to bulge from their sockets. “ Do you still promise?’ she demanded. “ Yes—anything Merciful Heavens! How did you come by that?” ‘* Never mind,’’ she replied, placing the object back and relocking the trunk. “I have got it, and I know how to use it should you ever go back on your word with us,” Sylvester was shaking as if from an ague. Meg, bending down, released him from his bonds, whereat he seized her on springing to his feet. She struggled hard, but he was strong and desperate. “It is my turn now,” he hissed. “Give me the key to that trunk. Give it to me, I But Meg was as supple as an eel. She, too, was also strong. With a deft move- ment, she twisted herself from his~-grasp and was at the door in one bound. ‘This she partially opened. ‘If I give one scream,” she panted, “in come the boys and the old man. They'll do you up in great shape. Make a step this way and I will have them back in a jiffy.”’ “You are too much for me,” he con fessed, doggedly. ‘What must I do, Meg?’ * You must let up on Steve. Whatever he done, he done it for you. You must let that girl, Jennie Coburn, alone. I have heard she is a nice girl, and she is as inno- cent as Some one else is guilty.” “ Well, what else?” He seemed to be slyly edging nearer to her, hat in hand. | “You mustn’t trouble my father about anything. That is because he is my father. See?” “*T see, I see. What else?” Very slowly, but surely, he was draw- ing still nearer. The girl, absorbed in her thoughts, did not appear to notice. “You must give up all search for that package. It did not belong to you, any- how.” * Never!” he exclaimed, his passion get- ting the better of his discretion. ‘* Do your worst. You cannot prove anything, \as it is. I will have what is mine and Steve must take his chances,” As he spoke he sprang upon her with such strength and fury that she was thrown violently to the floor before she could ery out. Sylvester then burst from the room, ran down the steps, through the covered alley and into the street, before Meg's outcries attracted the notice of old Slooger and his henchmen in the bar-room, When the master of the Hole in the Wall discovered that his prisoner was gone he turned his wrath on his daughter. Meg did not say much, but for a day or two she was seen going about with a black eye and a swelled lip. But then this sort of appear- ance was not very unusual among the women of that locality. One afternoon, a few days later, a hump- backed man, with a rag-bag over his shoul- der, was staggering up a semi-genteel street on the Bast Side. He seemed to be either ill or somewhat the worse for liquor. Presently some young toughs standing about a street corner began to make game of the old fellow, as he paused to steady himself against the lamp-post. They pushed against him. One seized his bag, while another jammed his hat down over his eyes. _A third tripped him up and he fell sprawling. Then the gang retreated, as a woman came to the nearest house«door and looked at the rag man with compassion in her eyes. After a feeble effort or two to rise, he fell back exhausted. The woman could : 4 “ 3 a « . - 2% ee 7 ‘ »