Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 262 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

—P Fighting Tom. 23 -_— — He stood there by one of the rocks, and slowly sounded his club three times. The. mystery of the raps was no longer a mystery now af all events. The man before them had made them. But who was the man? Uncle Joe’s story gave Harvey a clew to it, but he had no idea whether it would also prove a clew to the discovery of the lost box. If this maniac—if he were a maniac—had taken the box, where bad he hidden it? As if to answer his question, the colonel. who stood by his side, whispered: **T know, I know.” “What?” asked Harvey. “Why de captain do not know of him. He only come out in de night, and he live in de sewer allde day. He has a cave somewhere in it, He have your box dere, if it be anywhere. We find it when it rain.” ‘* Why when it rains?” asked Harvey. “ Chut /” was the only answer. The maniac-polieeman, for such they had settled in their minds he must be, stood by the broken rock after he bad sounded his club, listening; and presently they heard him chuckle to himself, Then he sunk down among the rocks and they saw no more traces of bim. He seemed to have vanished, as if the earth had swallowed him up. Pretty soon after, they heard voices coming toward them, and spied another group of men, seven or eight in number, coming cautiously toward the place. They seemed to be afraid lest they should run into some trap, for they halted frequently, and presently some one said: ‘**Begorra, it was here I h’ard the thafe of the world. Get yer rocks ready, b’yes, to give it to ’em.. Whin ye see a head, hit it, be jabers!” The colonel pulled Harvey down behind the sewer-pipe, but as the young man went down, his sharp eyes caught sight of the tall figure of the maniac policeman, Not where he had disappeared. Somehow or other he had crept away from there, and Har- vey saw him now behind the last man of the group, crouching and coming forward like a wild beast, no one seeing him. The foremost Irishman was near the broken stones and the little hollow, when again came that awful wild beast yell, and the maniac giant, with the spring of a tiger, was into the midst of them, a club in each hand. “Crack! crack! crack! crack !” The blows came with the precision and force of an engine, and in another minute the Irishmen, completely demoralized, were run- ning and tumbling into the hole over the jagged rocks left by the blasters. The giant leaped after them and they saw him striking right and left at the struggling men, while they roared at the top of their ungs for mercy. Only one got away toward Murderer’s Row in safety, and the big man jumped out of the hole and gave utterance to the first intelligi- ble sounds they had heard. “Ten!” he cried aloud. “Ten more, ten more, ten more for poor Jake! Good, good! Pile em up, pile ’em up! Only Irish! Hey Joe! Joe! Where’s Joey He paused and appeared to’ be listening for a@ little, when he began to chuckle again. ‘How glad Joe’ll be!” he said to himself. “ How glad, how glad! Hark)” He suddenly stopped and threw himself flat on the earth again. His quick ear had caught a sound no one else heard. In another mo- ment he rose up, ran to one of the sewer chim- neys and vanished. 98 | —_—_——_-_— ‘fy bis ’ CHAPTER XXVIII. OUT OF THE TOILS. ‘Wen he had gone, Syenson looked at his oung companion seriously, saying: ~ dic You wore right. It was Jake Vredenburg. He bave your box, and he is crazy as bedbug. Vat we do?” ' Harvey seemed to be ronplused. ‘“Indeed I don’t know. It’s as much as any man’s life is worth to venture into that sewer with that maniac inside.” , Svenzon nodded, ‘One man’s life? A dozen could not get him out. I don’t like to try it myself. have no room in a bole, and he club de life out ' A mand |’ with those two club, I wonder where he get them?’ Harvey could not inform him, and after a little while the colonel said gravely: ‘“We must go now. We have found more dan we expect to find here. It is not good to tempt our luck. Wego bome now.” Harvey looked round him carefully before they departed saying: “Did you notice that he went into the same pipe he came out of? I think that is the real entrance to his home.” “Do not go near it den,” said Svenson dryly. ‘‘ You have no club nor bave I, and we do not want de head broke from dat man. I come with club myself next time.” “What did he hear? I wonder,” said Harvey in a thoughtfal tone, when they had gota little distance off. ‘‘He went into his hole, like a frightened rat.” “Some one coming probably,” answered the colonel looking round kim cautiously. ** We are by no means out of dis trouble yet, my dear friend. Look sbarp.” They moved cautiously along till they came near the foot of the rocks on which Shanty- town was built, when they heard the sound of the mysterious club once more down by Mur- derer’s Row and the colonel observed to Har- vey: ‘*Dere is no rest for dat man. He walk’ all de night. Ido not wonder dey are supersti- tious about him.” They halted to look back, and saw lights moving rapidly about over the flats as if men were searching for something, but when the mysterious raps again sounded they were in a new direction, and the lights would be seen moving off after the noise, as if the men of Murderer’s Row were resolved on hunting up the nightly prowler of the flats, There seemed, too, to be some disturbance up on the rocks above them, for they heard wo- men’s voices calling to each other, and the col- onel pulled Harvey down. ‘*Chut!” he whispered, yet.” They listened, and pretty soon heard the voice of a Woman say: ** Are ye there, Johanna?” ‘And what d’ye want?’ was the answer. ‘*D’ye hear the cop, alanah?” said the first voice. ‘Sure and I’m un’asy about Mike. He’s gone wid the b’yes down to Tim Magin- nis’s, and maybe the cops will come back and git him.” *“Divil a cop will ye see this night,” re- turned the other voice, scornfully. ‘Sure they know whin they’ve got enough as well’s the best of them. The b’yes laid ’em out good wid their Captain Samuels that was goin’ to clane out the Fitzgeralds and the O’Gradys on top of them, It’s a good night for both of us, Mrs. O’Grady.” ** And ye may say that, Mrs. Fitzgerald, but it’s meself will be the glad woman whin Mike comes home for all that.” Then the voices ceased and Harvey and the colonel continued their way to the fuot of one of the ravines that were denominated streets, when Svenson said quietly: ‘Now come de test. We walk up this street slow, and if dey see us not, all right. If dey see us we have trouble. I wish we had club.” ‘¢ We have pistols,” suggested Harvey. ‘¢ Pistols make noise. Do not use him till de last. Club him while you cau,” was the re- sponse, and then they started to run the gant. let of excited Shantytown, moving as noiselessly as possible. But the colonel had not underrated the vigi- lance of their foes. The fact was that the wo- men of Shantytown were all up and moving about, excited by the fray and the absence of their lords and masters, who had: gone off to the brewery to celebrate their victory over the o covs,”? : ; Before long the fugitives saw lights in the ‘We are not safe street ahead of them, and dodged into the rocks at the side of the street. : The lights approached, and they saw that a small crowd of women with lamps and candles were searching the street as if they were look- ing for something. The two men kept still, and pretty soon saw the women stop not twenty yards away, when the light of the lamps fell on the bodies of two men dressed in the blue police uniform. Ah, the murderin’ thaves!” said one. “Tis they that got what they desarved.” ‘But it’s trouble there'll be to-morrow over them, Mrs. O’Grady,” said another. 8 eee eee eee “Sure the times ain’t what théy used to be,’ said a third mournfully. ‘‘1 mind when the cops wouldn’t dare conie near us, and now, av we happen to lay one out the whole of ’em comes down like so many hungry bounds s’archin’ for the man that did it. Bad luck to ’em 7 As she spoke the woman gave a kick to one of the bodies, and the listeners heard a faint groan, which produced a cry from the women. ‘‘ Holy Fathers! the baste’s alive,” ‘Split bis skull wid an ax,” was the amia- ble suggestion of .one old woman with white hair, ‘Sure the cops tuk me poor boy Dan, and sint him up the river where he died.” ** Arrah, don’t do no sich thing,” cried another. ‘‘Let the poor boy lie where he is. Sure he’s as good as dead anyway, an’ ye won’t have to confess to Father McCabe,” * Ay, ay, let the’ baste die ‘asy,” commented a third. ‘‘Come away, Mrs. Fitzgerald, so whin the coroner axes ye in the mornin’, ye can say ye don’t know notbin’.” The suggestion seemed to please the rest, for they passed on, searching the road-bed for articles dropped in the skirmish, and the colonel and Harvey crept out to the place where the bodies lay. Svenson stirred one, and whispered: ‘Are you able to move, my friend? We will help you off.” Tbe man stirred and rolled over, answering in a stupid, dazed way: “Who? what? where am I?” ‘““You’re in Sbantytown,” whispered the veteran. ‘They left you for dead. Can you walk, think you?” The man struggled up on his elbow, and Harvey helped him to a sitting posture, : Ill try,” be muttered, ‘‘ but I’m all broke up.” *€ Make an effort,” urged Harvey. ‘‘If they come back they’! kill us all to save their own necks, Come.” The words seemed to give strength to the injured man, for he struggled up, and stood there, supported by Harvey, while the colonel felt the other body. Presently the veteran said in a low tone: “* He is alive, too, but we can’t get him off. Come, let us get help.” They took the first man they had found between them, and moved slowly off up the road toward the distant twinkling line of gas- lamps where civilization began. No one appeared to dispute the way, and at last they cleared the precincts of Shantytown, and the colonel observed, drawing a long breath of relief; “Thank fortune we are out of dat. How did you get burt, my friend?” Tbe injured policeman was walking with more strength than he bad shown, since he saw the lights before: him, and now he answered as well as he could: ‘““] @no’. We went in—captain told us— fire in the air—then they seemed to spring out of the rocks all round us—put up job—must bave b’en—rocks came flying—I felt a smash— didn’t know nothin’ till you folks found me,” ** Was your captain hurt?” asked Harvey. “‘T don’t know,” was the weary answer. Don’t make me talk, gents, I’m all broke up—much as I kin do—to walk.” And indeed he was very weak, and they had bard work to do to get him another block, when they heard the welcome sound of a police club—no ghostly rap either—in the . next “Go call him here,” said the colonel.;. ‘*I vill help our friend here; We want ambulance to fetch de oder.” | . Harvey started off at a run, calling as he ran to attract attention, and soon spied a police- man halted under a gas-lemp, to whom he told his story. Day its - The gnardian of the publie peace looked sus- piciously at him. x by ‘One of our men hurt, you say? They don’t go down yonder.” : ‘**No, one of Samuels’s men. Haven’t you heard the noise of the riot?’ **I ain’t got nothin’ to do with his precinct,” was the dogged reply. ‘He came in here with bis men all broke up—left two in Shanty- town and he’s botherin’ our captain to go back there to-night. I ain’t got no orders to do nothin’.” ** But at least you'll help a -brother officer to your station,” said Harvey, warmly. ‘‘He is coming along with my friend and I fear he'll need an ambulance to get there,” (E(o) MmiGboo (E(0) s)