Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 238 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

eee eee Hank Hound, The Crescent City Detective; OR, THE OWLS OF NEW ORLEANS. A Strange Life Drama of the Great City of the South, BY ANTHONY P. MORRIS, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ JACK SIMONS, DETECTIVE,” ‘‘ THE MAN SPIDER,” ‘‘THE MAN OF STEEL,” ETC., ETC, CHAPTER L A MYSTERY. THE packet from St. Louis had just arrived. Among the busy throng on the levee were two men who had watched the passengers landing with eyes keenly alert, One was rough-clad and bearded; the other seemingly a gentleman of fashion whose appear- ance indicated that he had prepared an elaborate toilet for a special occasion. Presently, he of the fine cloth grasped his companion’s arm. ‘* There she is, ** A purty gal.” ‘* A stunner, truly.” ‘** You were right, Cap.” ** How?” ‘** They’re both alike.” * Oh, that was settled in my mind long ago.” ‘** An’ now for the stakes.” * Big stakes, too, eh, Billy—” ‘*She’s movin’. Go for ’er!” ** Be ready at the spot I showed you.” ** Don’t you worry.” Coming forward, seemingly bewildered by the confusion of noises and bustling people about her, was a beautiful young girl. She had drawn aside her vail, revealing a sweet face with melting, trustful dark eyes— eyes that glanced a little timidly here and there, as if seeking some one. : a ardon—but is not this Miss Edna Crys- ) She looked up at the dashingly handsome young gentleman who addressed ber. The face she scrutinized was full of pleasant smiling that would have disarmed suspicion, even had she not been anticipating this very occurrence. ‘Yes, that is my name.” ** Ah! I thought I could not be mistaken, hav- ing seen the picture you sent to your prospec- tive guardian, Mr. way. Permit me to introduce myself.” He proffered a dainty card, and while she looked at the name upon it, gallantly relieved her of the rather heavy sachel she was carry- Punctual, by Jove!” ing. The name on the card was Percy Desmond. ‘“You come from my guardian, Mr. Des- mond?” ‘*- Yes; I was deputed to meet yoy. Mr. Ard- way could not come himself, owing to a pressing business engagement at this very hour.” ‘*T am pleased to make your acquaintance,” she said, extending a tiny gloved hand, which he pressed respectfully. ‘* We shall meet your ReArcinn at the hotel.” . — hotel ?” surprisedly. es. “ Why not go at once to the house that is to be my home?’ ‘* He would prefer meeting you at the hotel. for Mr. Margrip, the Besides, we have to es lawyer, on our way. You know Margrip?” ‘““Oh, yos. It was he who discovered my whereabouts in St. Louis and first told me of the happy turn in my affairs.” ‘‘Exactly. Let me be your escort.” “And thank you, for you must know [am an entire stranger here. Do we take this cab?” ‘Yes. Step in, please.” ; They bad n walking somewhat briskly during the brief dialogue. Desmond now paused before a cab, the driver of which appeared to be there by engagement, for the door was promptly opened to admit them ‘St. Charles,” was dhe brief instruction “c cabby.” The vehicle was driven rapidly away. Desmond’s conversation became so delight- fully engaging that she scarcely noticed the route they were pursuing; and even if she had, there were no indications to arouse suspicion of anything wrong, as all she saw was new and strange to her. Presently the cab halted. The door was flung wide, and the bearded driver stood grimly silent, holding the plated knob. Percy Desmond alighted. : “Do we get out here?” came the half timid inguiry., ‘¢ But this place is not a hotel.” He affected an amused laugh. . **} should bope not.” “Where are we? Why do we stop?” ‘Hank Hound, the Crescent City Detective. As ber glances took in the locality a misgiving seemed suddenly to enter her heart that all was not right, And no wonder. Unknown to her, she was then in Franklin street, not far from Canal! On various sides could be seen the black faces of the negroes that supremely populate that qntkrcen =the lazy lounger ready tosteal or may- Par worse, the vicious bully with his thrice ugly phiz, the degraded belle loafing, arguing or quarreling with the groups she passed—these scattered standing idly or flitting in and out at the dingy doorway of a rum-shop near by. ‘We are compelled to stop here for a business purpose, Miss Crystol.”’ ‘* Business? —in this—” ‘‘ Have no fears. We must get the lawyer.” “The lawyer?” *Margrip, you know.” ‘“* And does he live here?” ‘* Yes, This house looks better inside than out. You see, Mr. Margrip practices considerably in the criminal court. is clients are, principally, among the negroes, who are continually ‘up’ for brawls and other scrapes. He locates here for better convenience, Old Margrip places full value on all current money, soiled or not. Come, Miss Crystol, your guardian wishes you to have a conversation with Margrip, before the meet- ing at the St. Charles, e pops in and out of his office; the chances are he is not in at this minute, Butitis advisable that you wait for him inside. We would attract vulgar curiosity remaining here in the cab,” Persuaded by his assurances, she descended. Another fearful glance she cast upon the cu- rious surrounding, The house, it was true, had a much cleaner appearance than its neighbors, but, like the rest, was of forbidding ok po A sharp rap caused the door to op°n. Edna took a step forward, then shrunk back from the ugly and muscular negress who had admitted them. There was something so absolutely repulsive in the woman’s visage that her heart gave a throb of fright. The gloomy, bare entrywsy, with its dirt- smeared walls, belied Desmond’s assertion that the building was better inside than out. An infernal grin broke over the face of the nerress, ** Yah! he’s got you, so ’e has, boney!” One of her long, brawn arms reached out- ward, with its fingers like yu:ture talons claw- ing to grasp. Vith a cry, Edna Crystol turned to flee. But the door banged shut. The scream on her lips was smothered by a quick, rude hand; and Desmond laughed chill- ingly, in her ears: “Caged! Caged, my beauty!” Her senses reeled as she struggled violently in vain. She heard the dull sound of receding wheels, the chuckling snort of the huge negress rte also fastened a painful grip on the frail orm. Then came the blackvess of insensibility. A bold, a startling deed had been consum- mated with this scene at the somber house on Franklin street. It was the luncheon hour at the large retail dry-goods store of Haskel & Deal “ up-town.” Maoy of the female clerks habitually carried their little dinner-baskets with them to the store; a few, living not far distant, availed of the convenient excuse to slip away and get a breath of air. Among the latter was a blue-vailed young gir] who seemed to be in no hurry to reach her odging. Just as she turned a corner a bearded man stepped directly in her path—the same we have seen on the levee when the packet arrived. “Day to you, miss!” “What do you want?’ demanded a musical but firm voice behind the vail. ** Oh, I don’t want nothin’, miss,” **Then why do you stop me?” **Pve got somethin’ for you.” ** What is it?” He slyly drew forth a sealed envelope. ‘** Ah! for me?” she exclaimed, eagerly. **Reckon it belongs to you. it is from—he said you would.” ‘Yes, yes, let me have it,” fairly snatching it from his grasp. While she bestowed a momentary glance up- on the superscription, the fellow lounged away from the corner. ‘* At last! At last!” fell in half-hushed ex- citement from her hidden lips. Then, tucking the missive carefully into her pocket, she moved on again, now stepping briskly, as if with sudden buoyance of spirit. When the dry-goods store of Haskel & Deal was busy with customers in the afternoon, and the employees, male and female, were at their various bsent. You know who sts, there was onea She of the blue vail had not returned. ‘* Where’s Nell Deems?” asked one of the girls of her neighbor. ‘Can't imagine, I’m sure.” ** Why, she was here all this morning.” ‘‘ Yes, I saw her go out at dinner-time,” “Taken sick, maybe. Poor girl!” ** Shouldn’t be surprised.” After work hours the sympathetic young female called at Miss Deems’s rooms to inquire after the health of her feliow-clerk. She was not there. She had not been seen since starting out as usual in the morning. ‘* But she must have been at home to eat din- ner?’ ‘‘ La, no, miss,” declared the landlady. aie Aud you don’t know anything about her at ? ‘‘ Not a thing, miss.” ‘“ Well, that’s strange.” ‘* Wasn’t she at the store?” ‘Not after dinner. rere E madam.” The landlady looked after her visitor, her eyes twinkling knowingly. ‘I see how it is,” she gabbled, to herself. ‘‘ Miss Deems was asmart and pretty girl, that’s sure. She’s eloped with somebody—gone off to be married and live somewhere else—that’s it.” The absent one faiJed to put in an appearance at her counter next seeaebapy § Further inquiry showed that she had not yet returned to her home. Nell Deems had mysteriously and utterly vanished! Standing in the office of the St. Charles Hotel WAS a santinnnaD perhaps forty years of age. A man of well knit, lithely-muscular form, his face shaved cleanly asa woman's. His eyes were of grayish color, quickly bold, their glance, as if by no will of their owner, having a fixed shrewdness of expression, while open to politely meet the gaze of any one. Harry Hound, a prominent and famous mem- ber of the New Orleans City Detective Yolice— though only having obtained his position a few years back—was known as ‘“‘ The Hound” to those who bad cause to dread his reputation of never-failing success in hunting down acriminal, or familiarly as Hank Hound, by the fellows of the *“‘ Shadow Brigade.” He could assume any disguise to perfection. The daring burglar or sneaking thief feared, most of all men, the phantom presence and steel- vise grip of ‘‘ The Hound,” for they never knew in what clever character he might be *‘ shadow- ing” his game. Harry appeared to have no special case on hand on the day of our story’s opening. He was leisurely scanning a newspaper. A close cab came wheeling around the corner at Gravier street, but to pause before the hotel, when a lady and gentleman alighted, entering the house together. Within a few minutes the gentleman a peared at the counter, and registered a single neme: “ Miss Epna Cryston, St. Louis.” ‘““The young lady’s baggage will not come to the hotel, as it is not likely that she will remain over night,” he informed the clerk, At sound of the voice Harry covertly glanced at the speaker. ‘‘ All right, sir,” responded the clerk. “And as she is expecting some Visitors, she would like to have a private parlor.” we nee be ae site , hen the gentleman ha ne, Harry ead- vanced and looked at the veclategt ‘‘ Edna Crystol?” be repeated lowly, reading the name. * Peculiar, and rather pretty. Won- der who she is, and what she is to that man?— Perey Desmond, alias ‘The Prince,’ as cheeky a specimen of an adventurer as I know of now in the city, yet with nothing actually ‘crooked’ about him, as far as can be—” ** Hello, Harry !” At the detective’s elbow was an energetic Rpinee of the pencil—Trimble Taskar, a reporter on the Picayune, The two were well acquainted. . ‘‘ How are you, Trim/ What are you driving after now?” ; ‘* Hotel arrivals first, and then—” opening his tablets and copying with almost lightning rap- idity from the register. ‘Well, and then what?” ‘‘ A sensation if I can find one, Can’t you help a fellow with an ‘ite’?” ‘‘None on hand to give away, Trim.” ‘* How is business with you, Harry . “ ae dull just at present. Nothing ‘* Well, I wish you a big case and me into it.” ‘¢ Thanks,” | Harry Hound sauntered leisurely away from the hotel. “Jam fairly rusting for want of use,” he mut- tered. ‘‘ Just a little something to stir a fellow up would be refreshing, though it doesn’t seem right to be wishing for crime to make employ- ment.” At the agency all was But The Hound was to soon enough. uiet. ave his wish gratified CHAPTER II. BROWN AND BLACK EYES. Two days had passed. The telephone alarm-bell at the Detective Agency, St. Charles street, near Canal, was 3 comicbooks.com \