Beadle's Dime Library No. 152 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

4 - Captain Ironnerve, the Counterféiter Chief you,” and as he spoke, the knife was raised high in the air and descended with a sickening thud deep into the invalid’s bosom. With a hollow groan, Paul Leonard half turned, and for a moment glared up into the fiendish eyes above him, * Curse-—you,—Jim—Munger !” he said. ‘* Curse you !” then the eyelids half closed, the limbs. gradually stiffened out, and Paul Leon- ard’s soul had gone to his Maker with its bur- den of sin. Leaving the knife protruding from the man’s bosom, Munger proceeded to look about the room as coolly as though nothing unusual bad occurred. He finally espied a small cabinet standing upona table in one corner, and approaching this, he pressed his finger upom a concealed spring, as though perfectly acquainted with its mechanism, at which a small drawer flew sud- denly open, revealing a number of papers lying atthe bottom. Lifting these up, the man took from beneath them a small book, that had the appearance of a diary, bound in red leather, and placing this in the breast pocket of his coat, he stole to the window and disappeared behind the folds of the curtain. He took his departure just in time, for he had scarcely left when the door opened and Lillian, accompanied by Ralph, entered the apartment. “Here is Ralph, uncle Paul,” she said, but no answer was returned, thinking he must be sleeping, she came near to the bedside, and then she saw the awful truth, Blood was slowly trickling from the mur- |’ dered man’s bosom, and the bed-clothes were dyed in the sickening red, while the wicked knife yet was sticking there as if in mockery of the life it had taken With a cry of horror Lillian started back. “Who has done this?’ she cried. ‘ Oh, who has murdered my only friend?” and then with a scream of more than mortal agony, she pros- trated herself across the body of the de- ceased. Ralph—the man of iron—was speechless with surprise, but now he stepped forward and attempted to lift the form of his cousin from the bed; but even as he stooped to do so there was a bustle outside, the door was thrown open violently and two policemen with Gordon Crandy! at their head, and closely followed by the servants of the household, entered the rodém. Quickly stepping to Ralph’s side one of the policemen placed his hand upon the young man’s shoulder and in deep, measured tones said: “Ralph Gordon, you are my prisoner,” ‘For what?’ cried Ralph, springing back. “For being concerned in the manufacture of counterfeit money, Mr, Gordon; alias Roving Ralph; alias Captain Ironnerve,” and so com- pletely stunned was he by this reply, that be- fore he was aware of it, the handcuffs had been placed on his wrists and he was a prisoner. Meanwhile the other officer and Gordon Crandyl bad discovered the body of Paul Leon- ard with that of Lillian lying upon it, and with x meaning sneer in his voice as the servants litted the fair girl from the bed and bore her to a sofa, Crandyl] said: ‘In all probability the counterfeiter knows more of the murder than he would care to tell.” With a spring like a tiger Ralph leaped for- ward and before it could be prevented he had brought his manacled hands down upon the head of his reviler, and Gordon Crandyl sunk stunned and bleeding to the floor, and then turning to the officers Ralph said: ‘There is some awful mistake here, gentle- men; I am neither a counterfeiter, nor a mur- cerer, It is evidently the enmity of that man that has placed me in this position, My right name is Ralph Gordon and I know/none of the aliases you have given me.” “It is a lie!” shouted Crandyl, y raising Limself. ‘Ralph Gordon is dead, and you are not only a counterfeiter but a counterfeit.” And in spite of all his protestations, Ralph Gordon was led away to the city prison and thrust into a musty cell, while on the slate tuat bung by the side of the door was written: “CAPTAIN IRONNERVE, THE COUNTERFEIT- ER.”’ CHAPTER IV. BEHIND THE BARS, Nor until the cell doors had closed with a bang upon Ralph Gordon, did he fully realize what had befallen him; but then it came upon ; om mee eee him with a rush, and in his mind’s eye he be- held himself convicted of a crime he had never committed. Sentenced to how many years he knew not in State’s Prison for making counter- feit money, and yet innocent of the charge! ** But,” he reasoned to himself, ‘‘ surely there can be found no evidence to convict me. I must have friends who can swear to my iden- tity.” The prison authorities would not even believe his name to be Ralph Gordon, and when he in- sisted that if was, and would give no other, wrote the name of Captain Lronnerve upon the slip outside his cell. Then who was Captain Ironnerve? Ralph asked bimself again and again, but he could give no satisfactory answer to the ques- tion. , Sick at heart, he rapped loudly on the door, and when the keeper appeared, asked if there was not some one whom he could send out for a paper, that he might while away the tedious hours reading the news. ‘‘There’s Mosquito,” said the man gruffly, and strode’away, and presently there appeared the figure of a little lad at the bars, who peered through them curiously, until finally, as if satisfied with bis scrutiny, he winked one eye and said: ‘Hullo, Cap! want me?” “Yes,” said Ralph. “Can you get me a paper?’ “To be—coursely!” was the highly satis- factory response. ‘Got the swag?’ ‘‘The what?’ “The ringers—rocks—spondulix!” “Certainly,” and Ralph passed a silver half- dollar through the bars to the boy outside. Taking it eagerly in his hand, Mosquito eyed it suspiciously for a moment and then again glanced at the prisoner. ‘* Say, boss, be you the queer ’un?’ ‘*The what?” asked Ralph again, for he was mystified by the queer expressions that the lad used. “The feller wot’s in for shovin’ the queer.” ‘*Oh! Yes, I suppose that is what I am here for, but I am innocent of the charge,” said Ralph, biting the ends of his mustache. ‘‘You don’t say so!” exclaimed the mis- chievous little imp sticking his tongue in his cheek and winking again in a provoking man- ner. “ Well, maybe you be. There’s a feller next door to you who murdered a chap the other day; he’s innocent, too, but there was a dozen as saw him doit. But the covey’s inno- cent, sure!” and gayly whistling ‘‘ Blackwell’s Isle,” the prison-boy ran away on his errand. With an icy feeling at his heart Ralph sunk back upon the iron bedstead and buried his face in his hands. He sat thus for some time, when suddenly springing to his feet he impatiently stamped his foot upon the square blocks of marble that formed the floor of his cell. Was it faney, or did the block move beneath his foot? Going quickly tothe bars, he peered up and down the corridor, but no one was near his part of the prison, and he turned, dropped upon his knees, and endeavored to insert his fingers in the crack between the blocks. “Gordon Crandy!] is to blame for my being here,” he muttered, “and by Heaven I will make him pay for it! Time enough to return for my trial when that is accomplished, if I can only make my escape now.” There was a fierce look in his eyes as he crouched there on the prison floor, trying with all his might to remove the loose block of mar- ble. Try as he might, however, the stone re- fused to move, and at last, in despair, he arose to his feet and turned to see the mischievous eyes of Mosquito looking at him through the bars. ‘Tryin’ iton already, Cap? It’s a bad game, though, an’ I'll bet you ten to one it don’t work.” For a moment Ralph y as stunned to find that his actions had been w: tched, but quickly recovering himself, he moved hastily to the door. ‘Young man, are you fond of money?” he asked, peering searchingly into the boy’s face. “§-u-m, some!” was the quiet response, ‘Well, listen. ‘If you can assist me to get out of this place, I will give you—how much would you like to have? You would be doing no wrong, you know, for I am innocent, and never heard of Captain Ironnerve until the offi- cers arrested me. How much would you like to have?” 0 0 Qe re 6 ee _ — NN ‘Well, that depends,” responded Mosquito. ‘*T'm gittin’ some sick o’ this place myself, an’ if you poney up O. K. and promise not: to let me git nabbed, I might be the cove wot freed ye. im the chap as can doit if I wants to, you bet!’ “ll give you five hundred dollars,” said Ralph, overjoyed at his success, “That settles it; where’s yer security?” ‘““My word, young man; I never broke it,” “Whew!” whistled Mosquito, suspiciously. **-You don’t say so!” ‘“* Come—l’ll make it a thousand.” ‘“Put.’er there,” and the grimy hand was thrust through the bars and tightly clasped in the large, warm palm of Ralph Gordon. ‘¢ When will we go to work, and how?” asked Ralph at last, in vain trying to hide his impa- tience. ‘*Mum’s the word!” whispered Mosquito, quickly. ‘‘ Here’s the keeper comin’ this way. You will hear from me when you ain’t lookin’ for it,” and then, asthe watchman drew near— ‘‘That’s too thin, Cap; it don’t work for a cent! They’s all as innocent as new-born babes when they comes, but the judge salts ’em down just the same. It don’t work! Ha! ha! ha! So long!” and he turned and ran away, laughing loudly, much to the discomfiture of Ralph, who fancied that the boy had been making game of him, and that all his plans and sopbistry had been for naught. The keeper came along, looked into the cell a moment, and then passed on, and Ralph was left to his meditations. ~ About twelve hours had passed since he had been so rudely thrust into prison, and already the confinement bad become very irksome, At last, picking up the paper Mosquito had brought to him, be glanced at the headings, but with a cry, he dashed the sheet from him and sprung to his feet. The first thing upon which his eyes had fallen was printed in large capitals at the top of the page: ‘“‘CAUGHT AT LAST. ‘“THE NOTED CAPTAIN IRONNERVE IN OCUS- TODY—THE DESPERATE MAN IS CAGED’ WITH LITTLE DIFFIOULTY.” And. then followed a long account of what the world would believe to be his career, and the verbatim report of the reporter's conversation with him, (The reporter had never seen him at all that he was aware of. Calmly he read the libel to the end, and then he threw himself upon the hard bed which formed—with the exception of a stool—the only furniture in the cell, and soon succeeded in dropping into a peaceful doze, from which he did not awaken until the shadows of even- ing were beginning to fall on the earth, and his keeper made his appearance with the usual evening meal. He had almost given up the idea of escape through the agency of Mosquito, and yet there lurked in his mind some vague idea that. this would be his last meal in Richmond prison. But help was near though he knew it not, . CHAPTER V. THE SIGHING PINE. SILENTLY, and without any fear, Lorna fol- lowed Baldo into the giant tree, whose trunk had so readily thrown open its doors to her. She did not stop to think of any danger that might be concealed there, but followed in the footsteps of the old man without so much as a thought of what might lie hidden in the tree’s mysterious depths, As soon as they had entered, Baldo closed the door with a bang, and striking a light, applied it to a candle which he took from his pocket, and proceeded to lead the way down a lengthy flight of steps, Lorna passing along close be- hind him without asking a question. Reaching the foot of the steps, they followed the passage in a straight line for fully fifty feet, when it suddenly branched off, one pas- sage leading directly to the right, and the other directly to theleft. Taking the one that led to the left, they followed along this for perhaps a hundred feet more, when they were brought to a stand-still by a huge oaken door, completely covered by brass which spar- kled brightly in the flickering light of the candle. Baldo paused a moment when they reached this door, and regarded his companion strange- ly for an instant. “Stand back a little,” he said, presently. “I want to show you the effect this door i— a Eomicbooks (E(0) rey, ; . 2 ‘