Beadle's Dime Library No. 146 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

/ The tide was on the flood, and the doctor, who had not forgotten the boating skill which he had acquired during his college days, made ‘ood procress up the river. He pulled away lustily for an hour and a half before he rested on his oars and began to examine the surroundings. He had kept to the western shore, for he sus- pected that on that side the place he sought would be found. As he glanced around him the first thing that met his eyes was an old fisherman busily en- a _on the shore right under the cli gaged in examining some nets near the western | shore, The doctor took a good look at the weather- beaten old man, and the idea came to him that if he were to enter into conversation with the old fellow he might possibly gain some infor- mation worth knowing. The fisherman let the nets fall again into the water, anchored his boat, took out his pipe and settled himself down for a quiet smoke while waiting for the capture of the finny prey. Diamond rode alongside. ‘May I trouble you fora light?” he asked producing a pipe from his pocket, for Diamond was an inveterate smoker. ‘*Sartin,” responded the old man, with a keen glance at the stranger. ‘‘Much luck to-day?” the doctor inquired, after. he had got his pipe into working order. ‘¢ None at all; fish is skeerce, worse luck.” “‘Ts this generally a good spot?” “None better for ten miles up or down, as I knows on.” ‘‘Are you an old hand at this business! You look like a veteran.” ' i | ‘* Man and boy I have follered this here river | for fifty years. Ireckon that I heaved a net here afore you were born.” ‘Well, you should be posted then, and per- ha ou can give mea little bit of informa- tion about this neighborhood. I suppose that you are as well informed about the land as the water, eh?” “Well, I don’t ’actly know ‘bout that,” the old fellow responded, with a shake of the head. ‘‘T spect if you were to cipher the thing down toa fine p’int you would find that since I was ten years old I have spent more time on the wa- ter than on the land, but I ain’t to be fooled much bout either of ’emin_ this here neighbor- hood, mind ye! Take me onthe land or take me on the water for twenty miles round this here identical center, and 1 reckon I knows it all.” ‘*You are just the man I want, then. Do ou know of a very old church in this neighbor- oak any where?” The fisherman took a long look at the uestioner from under his bushy eyebrows be- fore he replied. ‘* A werry old church,” he remarked at last, slowly and with an air of deep meditation. ‘Yes, a hundred years old at least, probably older than that, and with a vault underneath **T don’t know of no church standing round here that fills the bill.” There was a certain something in the old man’s tone Same Diamond’s quick ears did not fail to catch, ‘You know of no such building, standing?” “That’s w’at I sed.” ‘‘Do you know of any such place that is not standing—that is in ruins, maybe!” ; The old fellow chuckled at being thus adroitly caught. ‘Well, me! stranger, if you ain’t the first man that ever ‘tumbled’ to that little ‘racket’ of mine. I’ve had a heap of people in the last forty years tried to pump me *bout that old church, ’cos it used to be pretty well known that there was such a place, but for ten or fif- teen years now the thing seems to have clean gone out of folks’ heads.’ ‘Then there is such a place?” “Oh, yes; but there hain’t been no church there for sixty odd ) ears—not since I’ve known anything about it, anyway. My father said there Was a church there when he was a boy, but it was allin ruins then; it is in a dre’dful lonesome spot, ’way up on top of the hill, and it’s all grown up into a wood now, and all that is left of the church is a pile of rocks, over- rrown with creepers, and it looks gree like na- tur’ now, you know; no one would ever think that humans had anything to do with it.” ‘‘ Andis there a vault underneath that used to be used as a burial-place?” ‘‘ Well, as to that, stranger, I reckon that vou have t me,” the erman replied, seratching his aged head thoughtfully. “It seems to me that I have heered tell when I was a youngster ’bout some sich place under the old riding, but whether it is so or not, or only a story—a yarn like, you know, to make peuple open their eyes and stare, is more than I can tell. Anyhow,I never see’d anything of the kind, and once in a while when 1 was a boya lot of us kids used to tramp up there and take a look at the thing. We didn’t very often, and only when there was a whole gang of us, for folks said that the place was haunted— Saree and all that sort of thing, you ow. The Doctor Detective. 25 — -—. **'Yes, I understand; the usual stories that | shaking up. Thisinformation he conveyed ta are always stances to old ruins, but of course you do not believe such tales.” ‘Well, I don’t ’xactly know,” and the old fellow shook his head again in a very sagacious manner, ‘I tell you what it is, stranger, I | “Tam | don’t take much stock in ghosts or things of | that kind, but two or three times within the | raha ‘‘forl take a great interest in the Oo last year, when I have been coming across the river late at night, in my boat, I’ll be ’tarnally smashed if I haven’t seen dark iggers a-movin where the ol ruins are, and the furst time I see’d’em I had just liquor enough on board to make me foolish, so I pulled in to the shore for to see what the was up to, and when I come close up, durned if the figgers didn’t vanish right into the side of the cliff!” The doctor, with the aiserh Leas which he possessed, understood well enough how this had been effected, and realized that he was on the right scent. rom the old man he received instructions how to reach the ruins, and then, thanking him for his information, bent to his oars and pulled away. CHAPTER XXXVI. A STRANGE DISCOVERY. Mrs. JcoDGE MCQUENCHER, looking out of the carriage window, had recognized the boy when he ran ‘across the street, and when the driver stopped so abruptly she guessed that the little fellow had been hurt. She had taken a strange interest in the little gamin, for Mrs. Mc- Q@uencher was the mysterious woman who had had the strange interview with Doctor Dia- mond, and had been so anxious to hire Hopper- grass to play the spy upon bim, and the boy’s sturdy refusal only tended to make her respect the lad the more. Thatastreet urchin should rise superior to a bribe was wonderful. The lady made up her mind not to lose sight of him, but in her pursuit of the missing physi- cian she had no time to think of the boy. Little did shesuspect that the man she sought, was the one who placed the boy in the carriage, so well did the doctor’s disguise serve him; while he, catching but a glance at her, in the confusion of the moment, did not recognize in the lady the unknown who had made such a strange accusation against him. So the two , unconscious that they had ever met be- ore. ‘* Stop at Doctor ewes. house on the way home,” was the lady’s order to the driver. The doctor, being at home, at once got into the carriage, and as it went on to the judge’s house, examined the boy. By this time, having recovered from the shock, he was able to under- stand what was said to him. ‘IT guess that I am all right’ but, crickey! what an awful crack it was! 1 was down under the horses’ heels afore 1 knew what hit me. I tell you I don’t want to do it again ina hurry,” and a grim smile came over his dirty face. ‘*Do you think that you can walk, my little man?” the doctor asked. ‘Oh, yes!” responded Hoppergrass, readily ; but when+he came to make the attempt to alight he found that he had overestimated his strength. “John will carry you into the house!” the lady hastened to say; so the driver took the lit- tle fellow in his strong arms and carried him into the house, Into a spare room adjoining Mrs, McQuench- er’s own apartment she directed that the boy should be carried. ‘* Pray, make a careful examination, doctor,” she said, when the servant had retired. “Do not be alarmed, my dear madam,” he replied; ‘‘ I do not think there is the least dan- ger; no bones are broken, evidently.” ‘‘But may he not have sustained internal in- juries?” **T think not; about the only damage done is that when he was knocked down by the horse he got a smart rap on the head.” he doctor then unbuttoned the t-coat which the boy wore, which covered him from head to heels, and threw it open, and then, to his astonishment, discovered that it was the only garment the little fellow wore on the up- per part of his body. The lady had retired to the door when the doctor commenced his examination, but his ex- clamation of surprise arrested her attention. ‘¢ What is it, doctor—is he badly hurt?” ‘Oh no; rather deficient in ent; that is ” “Don’t give it away, Doc,” murmured the boy. a Perhaps he had better be undressed alto- ther ; I will bring you a night garment for im. And soon she returned with one of the Bi Judge’s night-shirts; then discreetly retrea until the doctor got his patient safe in bed. Now, as the judge was a and portly man, night-shirt was a world too big for the lad, and he looked so ridiculous when incased in it that the doctor could not help laughing. The examination showed that had not sustained any damage beyond a severe uencher, in the adjoining room. appy to say, madam, that the lad has not received any material injury—a severe con- cussion, that is all—a little bruised and shaken up inside; will require rest and nursing for a few days; nothing more.” ‘‘lam very glad to hear it,” she remarked, little fellow; he seems to be uncommonly bright —far superior to the lads of hisclass. Itis vir, strange how things happen. I encountered the boy about a week ago by accident, and I b«- came intere:ted in him and made up my min:! to inquire about and assist him if I could, but | have been busy and did not have time to attend to it. “* Fate, though, evidently intended that you should and so threw the gamin in your horse’s way to-night.” ** Yes, it does seem as if it was the act of a special Providence,” the woman observed, thoughtfully. “Do you know anything about him—how he is situated, whether he has any relatives or not? . ** Yes, he told me his story only a little while ago. It is simple enough; he is all alone in the world—no family or friends.” ‘Fine chance for you to adopt him, then,” suggested the doctor, jokingly. ‘I sup the judge wouldn’t object. You have no children, and although upon the face of it the idea does seem absurd, yet I really think, from what lit- tle I have seen of the boy, there is the making of a fine man in him.” ‘*I did have a child once, doctor,” the lady said, and a teardrop glistened in her eye as she spoke. ‘You did Why, you really astonish me! I never heard you say anything about it before.” “Possibly you are not aware that the judge is my second husband?” ** Indeed I was not; I never heard you or‘any one else k of it.” ‘‘All lives have their secrets, doctor, and that is mine. I had a child who was stolen from me when it was an infant, and if that child still lives it would be about the same age as the boy in yonder room,” “Was it a girl or boy?” ““A boy; that is why, I suppose, I am at- tracted to this poor little fellow, and when I look in his face it seems to me that if my boy was living he would look as this child does.” The doctor surveyed the face of Mrs. Me. Quencher closely for a few moments. ‘* Madam,” he said at last, ‘‘it may be only a foolish notion, you know, or one of those strange coincidences which are continually hap- pening, but there really is a resemblance of Ber] face in the boy’s. Had your child any irth-mark, or any other mark produced by ey Sa means, by which he could be identi- 2 ‘“*None that I know of. Would that he had, for it would render my search the easier.” “‘This boy has a mark tpon his person—a very peculiar .aark, which is the reason I asked the question.” ‘**My child had none; I am sure of it.” ‘This is not a birthmark, but one evidently placed upon the person, by design.” The woman was now deeply interested. ‘*] discovered this mark when I made my ex- amination, and as it was suck en odd affair I took particular notice of it,” the doctor con- tinued. ‘* Upon the boy’s right arm, pricked in in India ink, after the sailor fashion, is a device _ of two snakes with uplifted heads and open jaws threatening each other.” The woman sunk back in the chair, gasping for breath. ‘*My dear madam, what is the matter?” cried the doctor, in alarm, springing to her as- sistance. “That mark was upon my first husband's arm!” she replied, as soon as she recovered from the state of agitation into which tue intel- ligence had thrown her. ‘‘ And it was be who stole the child from me.” ~ Possibly then he marked the child for some Pp . ‘** Alas, I fear thatitis but accident, but to- morrow I will question the boy.” And so the iuberyines ended. On the morrow the judge’s wife attempted to learn the truth, but the task was a hopeless one as far as the boy’s knowledge was concerned. He knew nothing of his infancy beyond what” he had related to her on their first meeting. So the doubt continued. One person alone could solve the riddle; the man who had played the villain years ago. John Fr found, no matter how great the cost or hazard. CHAPTER XXXVIII. a eee AT BAY, c of police was not e certain that he had captured al] of the White Band, and therefore would have been glad to keep the seater. ; et, in order . rest 0 gang ere they could seek sa in flight; but to keep such an important ma from the know the keen-scented re- porters was altogether impossible, and so it was: JOOKS GOMIGE —— a enier must be te get his clutches on the © (Eloy