Beadle's Dime Library No. 146 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 The Doctor Detective. The Doctor Detective: R, The Mystery of the Golden Coffin. BY GEORGE LEMUEL. CHAPTER I. DOCTOR DIAMOND. “Our acts our angels are.”’ ‘Say, boss, be you the doctor?” The hour was ten of the night; the city, New York; the locality, that old-fashioned section of the great metropolis situated on the west side of the town, the district which extends from rene street to Fourteenth, once the chosen home of the fashionables of Gotham, but now devoted to second-rate boarding- hous’s, modest homes of thriving tradesmen, an‘l, in some parts, to that hideous excrescence whic. di-figures New Yorkabove all other cities in Ame-ica—the tenement-house, which con- tains within its narrow limits enough people to form a small village, or, as some one of the Health Officers wis ly and concisely stated the other day in a public journal—* More people live in these unhealthy habitations than can find graves in the earth that the house and yard cover.” We will not name the exact street, for in our narrative such painful truths must be told, that it would not do to tear the vail away altogether and expose the hideous thing in all its wretch- edness. But let him of the nga es mind stand upon the platform of the road at Fourteenth street, and a common old-fashioned musket would carry a ball right into the locality. The speaker was a stout little urchin, a dozen years old, perhaps, with a sharp, shrewd face old beyond his years, as all the street boys of large cities naturally are, for the life they lead is a forcing one and develops them rapidly. The boy was habited in a ragged suit, a deal too big for him, and it was so tattered and torn that it really was wonderful how it came to stay on the body at all. The man to whom the remark was addressed was just descending the steps of a modest two- storied brick house, of which the street was mainly composed, and which bore upon its front a modi tin sign, which read: * DOCTOR DIAMOND.” And the man was the doctor in person, a rather tall, peculiar-looking personage, with one of those remarkable faces which, once seen, are not easily forgotten; the long, oval face, com- mon to the men of the south-west, the big- boned settlers of the banks of the lower Ohio and Mississippi; high cheek-bones, something after the Scotch ee pet full blue eyes, with an habitual sad look to them; a pale face fringed with long, dark-brown hair, which he wore “clubbed” over his ears, after the western fashion. He was dressed plainly, almost poorly, in a complete suit of black, which, from its pe- culiar cut, gave him quite a clerical look. ** Yes, Iam the doctor; does any one require my services?” he demanded, surveying the boy, whose only attire consisted of a big pair of pan- taloons and an enormous coat, which, ti tly buttoned at the neck, descended to his heels. ' “You bet, hoss-fly !” sung out the lad, after the manner of his guild Come along, walk your chalks, for day’s a-breakin’!” The boy s off on a dog-trot down the street, and the doctor, who, thanks to his stature, was a rapid walker, easily kept up with ‘Where are you taking me?” ** Hell’s Kitchen!” The doctor knew the locality well enough; a miserable little court, close to the water-side inhabited by the poorest of the poor and which, in some way, had received the above- given expresive title. Low indeed in the so- cial scale must be the door wretch forced by cruel fortune to dwell within its gloomy pre- cincts. 6 houses were so close together that the blessed — of the health-giving sun never rested upon the pavement of the court. It was almost as dark and desolate as some of the great Western canyons that adventuring ex- plorers tell us about, with wallsof regular rocks a mile high on either side, and where, in the ene of the hottest summer, ice may be “What is the matter with the party?” The doctor expected that his services were needed to patch up the wounds received in some drunken brawl, such as were only too common Pea Logan of — court. ; “iktie ‘Goin make a die of it, I guess,” the boy aabwesitil with that reckless disregard for pain | and death which the savage life of the streets so soon implants in the breast of youth. ** Hurt in some quarrel?” 7 Not = It’s a gal.” vvennle gah O54. Ge that she’s got to climb the gol stairs; I don’t think that you kin do her much good, anyway,” the boy continued, with the generous confidence of youth, ‘“‘ but I thought as how it might do the young one some good to kinder see you fooling Posiatsenie kp her feel better, you know.” * An old woman and her daughter?” ‘Keno, cérrect! Set ’em a ag’in!” ** And the old lady is very ill?” ‘¢ Another ten-strike!” exclaimed the boy, ad- miringly. ‘‘I tell you, a feller don’t have to beat things into your head with a club.” “The young lady*is the daughter of the old ladv, I presume?” ‘“*T presuine,’” repeated the boy, whose ora was tickled by the phrase; ‘‘spit ’em out! Swallowed a dictionary some time, I reckon, Well, to get right down to business, the young al is the darter of the old ’un, and she ts a ady, too, you can bet your boot: on that, every time; but they're drefful poor; old gal sick, young gal takes care on her and don’t put in much time to work, but the old lady will pull for the silver shore to-night, I guess, and then what in blazes is to become of the little one is a conundrum that any man kin break his k over.’ The boy was evidently a character, and the doctor’s always-sad face grew sadder still as-he listened to his talk—the strange jumble of child- ish prattle, innocent ignorance and vile slang— the argot of the street, that hideous modern monster who defiles all the young lives intrusted to its care. MG “Say, Doc, you can’t get rich outen this job, you know!” ejaculated the boy, abruptly, as they neared the entrance of the court. “You won’t have to hire an express-wagon to carry our ducats away. The fact is—honest now, or Lain’t on the beat—I ’spect that I'll have to ‘hang you up’ for this little racket, for I am about clean bu’sted, jest now, and I guess the little gal ain’t got money enough in the house to start a bank with. You see, she ain’t got nary an idee that I’ve gone arter you, but when I saw that the old’un had got a , Square knockdown, and that it was Wall street to a Florida orange that she wouldn’t be able to toe the scratch and come to time ag in, I made up my mind, as a friend of the family, that we ought to have a saw-bones # ai for the looks of the thing, anyway, and as Lallers heered of you as being a good sort of a chap w’at didn’t skin r people of their hide and taller, 1 thought ‘d gi’n youthe job. Make it light though, boss, and [’ll square it with you some time, honor bright! ou kin ask anybody in the court ‘bout me. I’ve lived here ever since I was a little shaver, knee-high to a bull-frog; they all know me; jest ask for Hoppergrass.” ‘‘ Hoppergrass? Is that your name?” ‘* Wall, it does for me; I s’pect that I used to have a reg’lar name once, but it’s so long ago that everynoe has forgotten.” And the little fellow shook his head mourn- fully as pee thinking of a dead and gone that expired years and years ago. ‘Don’t trouble yourself about my fee; I am rich enough to give an hour or two to the suf- fering poor and I shall not count the time w asted. ‘*Bully for you! You will do in a crowd! Say, Doc!” cried the boy, confidentially, as he Ted the way into a most miserable abode, ‘ ee bulldoze the gal inter eating Pemmge p | Blest if I believe she has taken anything all day!” The boy knocked at a door at the rear end of the entry: a low, sweet voice within bade them enter, and they did so. The apartment was a small one, barely twelve feet square and almost destitute of furniture, containing only a bed, a small table, upon which flickered a tallow candle, and a single chair. 2 ge the bed lay an aged woman, evidently last stages of life, with her eyes closed d breathing so feebly that at first even the. rienced eyes of the medical man believed that death had set in, but a second glance showed him that the dark angel had not rs claimed his prize, although he had placed seal upon the victim. Two glances at the invalid and then one at the daughter. Oh, rapture! Never had Alcenor Diamond looked upon afairercreature. In a moment the ualid apartment, the dying woman, the ape- like boy, all were forgotten in the coma tion of as fair a creature as Heaven ever permitted to exist upon eart She was about the medium size, and with a form as perfect as though Nature, jealous of the sculptor’s art, bad resolved to create a human form so perfect that imitating mortals would give up their ate Rig despair of ever being able to reproduce its like. Her face was purely Greek in its outline, a type of the lineage that gave a Helen of Troy to earth to set the world at arms. Brown was her hair and brown her eyes—both perfect, both inexpressibly lovely. as the sad and silent student looked upon this itiful creature, for the first time in his life he knew the meaning of the word love. Say not, ye sages, wise and calm, that passion needs wes t is false—the record of ages proves that love, heaven-born, often springs into being in an instant! ; And the girl, too—Dura Eldon—whose life had been one long struggle against a eruel tyrant—who had fled into these miserable quar- ters to escape him, for the first time since the breath of life had dwelt within her perfect form, understood what it was to feel the thrill of passion’s fires within her veins. Here was a man whom she could love! Oh, if he had only’crossed her path one short half-hour ago, what a difference it would have made in her life! But now, she was s ted as fully and completely from himn—tha only man upon whose face she had ever cared for a second time to look—as if an ocean rolled be- tween them! It was too late, and she was bound in a chain seemingly of silk, but in reality of iron, which would surely gall her to the grave. The girl, stronger than the man, as women in affairs of the heart are always stronger than men, was the first to wake from the dangerous spell which was stealing over them. “My mother!” she exclaimed, lowering her eyes and casting them toward the wasted form of her parent; ‘‘ she can be saved, can she not, doctor, if she has proper care, food and medi- cine?” Diamond approached the bed and made a rapid examination of the sufferer, ‘Miss, to tell youa falsehood now would be cruel,” he said, slowly, ‘‘and I cannot bring myself to doit. Your mother is already dying; ee one ngs, she will breathe “sap last.” : **Ob, my !’ cried the girl, springing to her feet in anguish. ‘It cannot be true, Bee, I have plenty of money,” and she tore a large roll of bank-bills from her bosom, ‘‘I can buy her everything.” ‘* But alas! all the gold in this world will not save her!” ‘‘Then I have sold myself for naught!” she cried, despairingly, and fainted dead away. The doctor at once proceeded to attend to uns stricken girl, and under his care the girl soon revived, but she seemed transformed into a living statue; her face was like marble; she looked around her vacantly for a moment; then, catching sight of the pale face of the doctor, the memory of what he had said came back to her, and she shivered like one exposed to a sudden, chilling blast. A sigh came from her lips; with slow and feeble footsteps, as though shod with lead, she took her chair and moved it still closer to the bed; then, seat- ing herself, she fixed her eyes, staringly, upon the face of the dying woman, and so she re- mained, taking no whatever of the presence of any one else in the room. The doctor and the street lad—the strong man and the me careless boy—were both awed by this exhibition of silent despair, more ter- rible by far than the wildest grief; and almost as motionless as statues they, too, watched. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed; then the experienced eyes of the medical man detected that the end was at hand. The sick woman opened her eyes and up in the eager face of the anxious daughter, first with a vacant look as though she r - nized her not, but the stare faded into a smile of recognition, which played fitfully upon the wan, thin, bloodless lips. * Dura, I am better now—I think that I shall soon—soon go to sleep—sleep,” she murmured faintly, and wearily closed her eyes. ‘You were wrong, doctor!” exclaimed the girl, softly ; ‘‘ man’s skill cannot always the workings of Providence. Oh, I was sure that the who rules this world so wisely and well would not take from me the only friend I have in this wide world! For her sakeI can bear the burden which I this night have taken upon my shoulders, and which almost makes life unsupportable, but I will bear it, and bear it bravely, if only for her. From this sleep she will wake refreshed, will she not, doctor? She will be stronger, and then, under your care, and with my ministe aid, day by day she will improve. Thank Heaven that I had strength to make the sacrifice, and now money is no object to me; gold will be but as a feather in the balance when compared to the restora- tion of this dear mother to health!” ** Miss se poorer yourself for the worst!” the doctor replied, solernnly and sadly. “The worst! In Heaven's name, what is it 96 mean?” cried the girl, ber eyes frenzied and er breath coming quick and hard. ‘Your mother will never wake again. She sleeps—sleeps in death.” A look of utter despair came over the beauti- ful face of the orphan, for such truth she now was; the doctor advanced to her aid, for he feared that she was about to faint, but with a slow motion of ber hand she waved him back. Then, —— over the bed, she imprinted a mast the lips which were already cold. e ‘Leave me,” she murmured, as she pressed herself to 16 se form of mother whom she had once loved oh, so leave me alone with my dead!” Spidey There was no gainsaying such a , and with noiseless steps the man and the with- drew from the room. | ‘**T will come to-morrow: if Iam ek fore come for me,’”’ Diamond said, as he parted. > VJOO eom ‘S (E (E() a = tte > ae —