Beadle's Dime Library No. 211 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

between you and’ me, you know, Charley is only a , too ge for you—” 2 Sie abat ‘up angrily, her brown eyes’ flash- ing. ~~ e How dare you, sir?” omg **Keep cool, keep cool. Let me get through. I say he’s too young for you but other people may not-be.”" ** What do you mean, sir?’ she asked, sitting down again, more placably. “My dear girl, is it possible you don’t see? | What's the use of a handsome, accomplished girl like you, with the eves of a gazelle and the | waist of a fairy, throwing yourself away on a little jockey boy, who'll never have ‘enough money to keep you as you ought to be kept?” Now she had turned very red, anid her eyes sunk under his, though not for long. A smile she could ‘not repress played on her lips, and she murmured: **P’m sure [ don’t know what you mean,” Crooke could hardly keep his face. “ ** Wants it all straight and business-like,” he thought, ‘‘ Is that the kind you are?” Then aloud hé'said, and as he spoke he drew a chair over beside her, and softly laid bis hand on her arm: “Pil explain ful y: I came here to see you, because I’a heard how beautiful you were. I find | didn’t hear half of it. the’ kind of sensible girl J think you are, there’s no more need of your slaving over this dress- making any more. Do you begin to see what I mean She trembled a little and murmured: ‘*T don’t ‘understand you. What do you want me to do?” “That’s business,” he said, in a low tone. ** Look here, ~How would you like to go to the races this afternoon?” . Her face brightened up instantly. “Oh, wouldn’t that be splendid?” ‘“Well, you just tell that girl of yours to | like to-da keep the sbanty till"we come back, and then 02 meet me in the Bowery at the Grand street evated station, in half an hour. See here. I think we can both bave a good time and I’m willing to pay for it. I’m a bachelor, with more money than I know how to spend. Don’t say a word. Spend this for any thing you want. Remember, in half an hour, at Grand street station.” He pushed a ten-dollar bill into ‘her yielding aed patted her shoulder familiarly, and wa out, while Mary Madden, her cheeks flushed with excitement, looked into the glass and thought, triumphantly: ‘‘My beauty’s not all gone yet, I’ve taken that rich colonel a captive. Ob, isn’t he too sweet for any thing? And he’s just dead in love with me. Any one can see that.” Then she hurriedly called down Miss Katie O'R fferty, who came down this time with her black hair smooth and her dress pulled into The sewing girl glanced round the room with an air of such evident disappointment that Mary Madden observed scornfully : ‘*Oh, you needn’t look. He’s gone, and I’ve got to meet him on business in half an hour. You —— with with your work and keep things 8 tht while ’m gone. I shall not be back to- day.” “But Mrs, ’s dress is promised for this seohdun taothecned Katie. " ‘*Mrs. MacCarty will have to wait,” was the impatievt answer. ‘‘ Do you think I’venothing to do but wait on her whims? No, gil, I can tell oc ome not be for long I shall ‘Stay here at Pm of this slavery and I see a good chance of getting out of it for good very soon. You take care of the place. Tell Mrs. MacCarty, if she comes bothering, that she’ll have to wait my time or go somewhere else. I’m going out.” And with that she darted up-stairs and began in nervous haste, leaving poor Katie, the dge, te do as she pleased, When she departed, Katie muttered: ‘*T know where you're going, and you see if I don’t tell your CHAPTER XIV. _. MR. CROOKE’S LITTLE GAME, THE enterprising and astute Mr. Crooke was kep ti a long time under the station of the Elevated Railway, awaiting the coming of his new acquaintance. He even began to grow a pone and im- self: patient, and muttered to h BN ht to have staid and brought her on. = she’s frightened at the risk of going ie a stranger. I believe I'll go back and find He was ee me round with that intention, when he felt a soft touch on his arm, and be- held one of thegprettiest and best dressed wo- men he had seen for a long time, smiling into as ‘ac he lady said: Pen neal eoiel have I kept you. waiting rook, was delighted at last. e seen in the sewing-room, in spite of the disadvantages of dress, that this girl was pretty, though beyond the first bloom of Now, if you are | ‘Ah noit’s not my luc find these lovely beings divided from nre for- —— Colonel Plunger. youth, but the woman beside him looked no more than eighteen. To be sure, the keen eye of the gambler, trained in all the devicés’ of feminine allure- ments, detected traces of art in the make up, but none the less it was art worthy’ of a first class fashionable Parisian. . The face was pink and white, but the powder was invisible, the large dark eyes were really beautiful in themselves, the hair wasartistically arranged, of the pale blonde that contrasted so charmingly with dark eyes and brows, and the attire was perfectly bewitching, from the rose pink bonnet wich its white vail and the general pale blush hue of the rest of the attire, to the end of a tiny pink boot. But, with all this beauty, the dress, face and figure were so decidedly out of place at the cor- ner of the Bowery and Grand Street, that even the street boys were staring at her in wonder. Crooke slipped her hand through his arm and said loudly: ** Why my dear wife, how long you kept me waiting. Come, let/us be off at once.” He said this for the benefit of the street boys, and took her up-stairs to the Elevated train, “whispering: *“ Had to say it, you know, toput them off the scent. By Jove, you are a beauty and no mis- take, I’m proud of you.” His tone was already familiar, and he gave her arm a squeeze as if he-had indeed been her husband, watching ber face all the time. Sne did* not repulse him;’ only smiled, and he thought to himself: “itsall right. She thinks I’m.in love and want to marry her. She’ll do anything [ want her if [m only hot enough to keep up that He waited till he rot into the car, in acorner, when he continued whispering: ‘*T say, Mary, do you know what you look 9”) She eilled and. bridled up, ‘*('m sure, I don’t know.” ‘* Wouldn’t you like to know?” ‘Well, what?” **T’ll tell you. A bride.” This, brought a real blush, and she said: ** Ain’t you ashamed to talk so, and call me your wife before every oue?”’, : ** No, ’'m not, Why should I be? Ionly wish, I had such a beautiful wife. By Jove Id be as proud of her—ah wouldn’t 1? But that’s no use And he heaved a deep sigh and looked at his boots in a melancholy way, while Mary Mad- den cast a side glance at him and took in the figure of a handsome man of forty, tall and pony: with a brown mustache, dark eyes, cur- hair, and a dress so rich and fashionable, that she was complety captivated. And this gorgeous being looked so poetic and melancholy, and seemed so much in love with her, that she felt not the least fear of him, but on the contrary rallied him with the kittenish airs of a girl of sixteen, saying: ‘Oh you silly man! What in the world can you mean, I wonder? What's no use?” . ‘It’s no use wishing for such a lovely wife. I’m doomed always to ever and ever.” — ‘“‘T don’t see why,” she retorted. ‘‘I should su you could marry any lady you pleased with your gs Gf ‘““ Ab, yes, all but one, all but one, and she— unhappy man that I am—I met too late. Oh, Mary, if I’d only known ron @ year ago.” “Why? she asked, slyly. “Why? Can youask? A yearago you were a free maid-n,. now you're promi to one whom we both know.” ‘*T don’t know anything of the sort,” she said, in a low voice, picking at her parasol. **P?m sure Pve got as much right to accept the attention of gentlemen as I ever bad. I don’t care much for Charley. You know he’s only a a: after all; but he teased me so,” he nenge smiled to himself as he saw the fish nibble at the bait, and continued: ‘**T wish I could think so. You look so like a bride today. I say, Mary, wouldn’t it be a joke if we were to make a runaway match of it to-day? Wouldn’t it be remantic?” in a real blush showed outside the arti- ficial one, and she stirred uneasily. ** Aren’t you ashamed to talk so?’ she mur- mured. ‘““No. Why should I? We can’t help our hearts, Mary, and I feel as if I’d never loved till the moment I set eyes on you.” An irrepressible smile curved her lips; and she said, hastily: ‘Oh, do stop. Here we are at the Battery.” ‘“True enough, and now will take the boat. Come along, darling. I declare you look more like a bride than ever. We shall positively bave to make it a reality.” Then be took her down to the boat and said no more till they were securely seated in a cor- ner of the upper deck, when he began again to wheedle and flatter the silly creature, all puffed up as he saw she was with vanity and love of easure, till by the time they arrived at the nding of the beat she was chattering away (crn “teat i CL CLE LL LL i i with perfect freedom, telling him how she had first met her small admirer, how he doted on her, and how hard it was fora poor girl to get on in the world, working for a Jiving. ** And [used to have so many admirers,” she said, with a littl: sigh. “* Never was there a girl with more. But what’s the use of having a pretty face without money?” “Dll tell you,” whispered Crooke. ‘The pretty face will bring you a rich busbend, if you know how to play your cards properly.” “*] wish I thougbt so,” she said, wistfully. “TI know it. See here, Mary. I’m a man of the world, and you’re a charming girl with lots of good sense. Say the word, and 1’ll make you a lady to-morrow. ‘Throw over this little runt ofa boy. ‘He wouldn’t make you a husband, I could take care of you, as your beauty deserves to be cared for,” “Do you really mean it? You're not joking at my expense?” she asked, in a low fone “Not abit of it, Dl] marry you to-night, if you like, only—” “*Ob, there’s an only about it, is there?” The question took him aback a moment, it caine so suddenly, and he thought: “That girl’s no fool. So much the better.” Aloud he replied: ‘Yes, there’s an only. You must understand who Iam, anil what my wife will have to do. She'll have to help me.” “Tn what?” “In earning a living, but not in the way you have been doing. No druagery, no sewing and slaving. My wife will have to use ber wits, and nlwavys look as beautiful as you are now. She'll have to live in parlors, with velvet furniture, go to balis, theaters and operas every night of her life. Dress like a queen.” “I’m sure I could do that,” she interrupted, impatiently. ‘‘Is that all? Vll marry you to- night if you want me?’ ‘*No, it’s not all. I want you to do some- thing for me to-day first, Mary.” “*T thought so.” “Yes, of course. You've got to break off with this jockey of yours.” “Well, ’'m willing to do that, of course.” * Don’t be ina hurry. I don’t mean at once, and openly. You don’t know me yet. I’m what they call a sporting man. I make bets and win money. You know I paid Billy Boots, to win that race the other day. Now I want you, to-day, to do your best to entice him to lose,” She nodded her pretty head. ** Pll do it, if you tell me how to do it.” “Twill, You must send in a note to Billy, that you want to see him. Tl keep out of the way. Then you tell him be’s got to lore the race in the last heat, and I’!l give him a thou- sand dollars,” ‘But you won’t be such a fool,” she said, with simple astovishment. “‘ Never mind about that. I told you I’m a sporting man. I spend money like water. B the by, how did you know I gave Billy that five bundred?”’ ‘‘ Why he gave it all to me,” she replied, tit- tering. ‘‘ The little fool! I’ve got it here in the bosom of my dress. He’s saving upto get married on it.” She seemed so utterly unconscious, in the meanness of her selfishness, that she was be- traying her lover, that éven the hardened sense of Crooke felt a thrill of disgust, but he con- quered that in a moment, and replied with a sneering laugh: “So much the better, Mary. I knew you were a sensible girl; hold on to it, and we'll consider that so much saved to help buy you a pair of diamond earrings.” Mary Madden’s eyes sparkled. Few women can resist diamonds, and she was not one of the few. ‘And will you really give me a pair of real diamond earrings?’ she asked, in a tone of in- credulity, Crooke turned toward her so that the sun- shine might glance on the big pin in his scar£ Like most gamblers, he had invested in big diamonds, and he had noticed Mary eye the pin odminoaly. “‘How do you like that for a stonef” he asked her, indifferently. ** Ob, it’s lovely,” she said, hungrily. ‘* Well, I’ve got the mate to it, and Pll have them set for you for a wedding ean if you'll get hold of Billy and wheedle him into losing the race.” ** Pil do it,” she said, resolutely. And just at that moment they came to the landing and took the cars to Squantum Bay. All the way there Crooke kept plying her with flattery, and by the time they reached the course she was completely won over. He her to the Grand Stand, set her down there and wrote the note to Billy, Then he took her down to view the course, and sxon introduced her to several handsome and well-dressed mem- bers of his own fraternity, to one of whom he consigned ber with a whispered injunction: ‘*Use your wits now, Mary, and get at the boy somehow. The diamond earrings are yours to-morrow if you succeed.” NIGDOO (C@ (C <S