Beadle's Dime Library, Vol. III, No. 31 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

J | 1 ' @ ——— ——— What other sort of birds or bipeds this good cimen of a New York newsboy would have claimed to be, we know not; but the ‘‘ Mar- quis” interrupted him with a question. “Will you go in and tell this girl that a gen- tleman wishes to see her? say the gentleman who gave her his card on Broadway last night. If you go I'll give you another quarter.” “Why, yowre a stick-in-the-mud on wheels, you are!” exclaimed the boy. This was evi- dently intended to be used in a complimentary sense. ‘Will I go? you kin bet your pile on it every time. Just you wait in the saloon an’ Pll go an’ tell ’er. Say, just look at me slido off on od ear!” and with this parting request oe newsboy disappeared in the darkness of the alley. ‘*Got any thing to beat that in London?” ask- ed Catterton, referring to the boy. ‘No, that kid is a’ead of my time,” replied Jim; “but I say, let’s go hin an’ see what the lace is like inside while we are a-waitin’. It ooks a blasted sight vourse than hour ‘coal ’oles’ at home, an’ them an’ the ‘ cider-cellars’ are bad enough in the way of drinkin’-places.” ‘Yes, we might as well see the sights.” So the two entered the dance-house. The place was pretty well filled with half- drunken roughs, wholly drunken sailors, and the degraded women usually to be found in the Water street dance-houses. After surveying the motley, disgusting scene, Jim, in a whisper, suggested that they had bet- ter call for something to drink at the har, for suspicious eyes were already beginning to glare upon the two strangers. ‘*Don’t drink any thing but beer, then; the liquor here is poison,” replied Catterton to the suggestion. o the two made their way to the bar and called for beer. As they were drinking, a man stuck his head in through the door of the saloon and took a hasty glance around. When his eyes fell upon the ‘‘ Marquis” and his compan- ion, he started, and then, after a second glance, asif to assure himself, he disappeared. Jim turning at the same moment, caught sight of the stranger’s face. Catterton not noticed m. ‘¢ My hies!”” cried Jim, in a whisper, catching the ‘ Marquis ” by the arm. ‘English Bill’s just put ’is ’ead in at the door.” “The deuce he did!” replied Catterton, in the same low, guarded tone that the informtion had been conveyed in. ‘‘ Did he see us?” 6 Yes. ” ** Recognized us?” ‘*T think he did.” E “That’s ugly!” and the ‘‘ Marquis,” despite his coolness, could not help feeling ae 8 ‘We had better get hout,” sug im. “Yes,” replied Chatterton; ‘‘if he attacks us, we are at a disadvantage.” “Just so,” said J im) “hand ’e’ll probably ’ave a crowd with him.’ “Yes, he’s on his own dunghill now. We'll move off quietly so as not to excite attention. And the ‘‘ Marquis” and Jim quietly made their way to the door. On opening it, to their dismay they found that the passage-way to the street was filled with a crowd of roughs that were not there when they entered. Jim let the door swing to again quickly. : ; . ‘“« Marquis,’ we’re trapped!” and Jim gave vent to a low whistle. “Well, it looks like it,” replied Catterton. There was no use in denying the truth; their situation, if not one of deadly peril, yet was dangerous. “7A ve you made your will, ‘Marquis’?’ asked Jim, with a grim attempt at agree ‘* No, not yet, nor I don’t intend to at present. I’m worth a dozen dead men yet,” said the ** Marquis,” coolly. “ Nothing like pluck!” observed Jim. ““There’s a door at the further end of the sa- ° loon; it probably leads into the yard. Come, we'll move quiet y toit. It may be open; if so, we're saved.” maa so as not to excite attention, the two walked through the crowd and reached the door; they tried it. It was securely fastened. English Bill, at the head of a dozen or roughs, entered the saloon. For the first time in his life, ‘‘ Dan, the Devil,” the fearless ‘‘ Marquis,” turned pale, Death stared him in the face, | CHAPTER XI, A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE, ENGLISH BILt and his gang, saun slow- ly through the saloon, approached the of the room where the ‘‘ Marquis” and Jim stood like wolves at bay. The pouring in of the roughs excited no par- ticular attention, for as yet they had not made any hostile demonstration, but slowly and sure- ly they were closing in upon the two who stood by the fastened door. Quickly the ‘‘ Marquis” ran his eye over the throng. A tougher set of desperadoes his eyes had never rested upon. Penned in a corner as the two were, with the ruffians between them and the door of the sa- loon, escape was not to be thought of, save b fighting their way through the crowd, and with the odds against them—six to one—the attempt was hopeless. “Hour six-shooters vill ’ave to come into play ’ere,” said Jim, quietly, to Catterton, as the ruffians were slowly advancing. ‘**No, no!” replied Catterton, hastily, ‘ don’t draw your weapon; they are armed as well as we. e should only murdered outright. Let us trust to a desperate rush and our knuck- les to fight our way through them, if fight we must,” *“* Vell, it looks like it,” said Jim. ‘‘ My hies!’’ he suddenly cried, in astonishment, ‘‘ hif there ain’t that leetle imp of a newsboy.” Jim’s eyes did not deceive him, for, stealing enone one side of the saloon, just behind the roughs, was the redoubtable Shorty. He was evidently in search of a good position to view the comin struggle. This position he found on a pile of barrels in a corner of the room near the gas-meter. ‘The young im message to Bill in ** Marquis.” ‘** The young devil!” growled Jim; “hif I get out of this alive, Pll wring his neck when I cotches him.” “The chances are against us,” said the ‘‘ Mar- quis,” “‘ but while there’s life there’s hope.” ‘* That’s se, never ’oller!” replied Jim, cheer- ully. English Bill stopped about five feet from the two; a leer of triumph was upon his ugly face. “1 think I've seen you two before somewhere, hain’t I?” he asked, with a iy ‘Tt is probable,” replied the ‘‘ Marquis.” “TI told you if you traveled round Water street, you better keep Aidcad eyes open. It was your turn the other night, now it’s mine.” ‘“What are you going to do?’ asked Catter- ton, more for the sake of gaining time, in hopes that some chance of escape might spring up, than for information. ‘‘T’m going to spoil that pretty fate of yours. [ll put such a mark on ye that your own brother won't know you?” cried the an, fiercely. “Take care you don’t get marked yourself in the -operation!” returned the ‘ Marquis,” his face growing deadly pale—a sure sign in him of rising anger—and his eyes flashing lurid must have delivered my of to the girl,” said the - ** Well, if I can’t do it myself, I’ve got plenty here to help me,” and the rough waved his hand to the crowd behind him. ‘You are a brave fellow,” said the ‘‘ Mar- uis,” with bitter sarcasm. “You'll be a beaten feller before you're ten minutes older!” cried Bill, in anger. ** Don’t be too sure of that,” said Catterton, coolly, although in his heart he had little hope oS escape. He knew a miracle alone could save m. *‘Tam sure of it. Tll make you repent the minute when you first put your hands on me,” exclaimed Bill, in anger. Catterton saw no mercy in the brutal faces and frowning eyes that surrounded him. Firmly he shut his teeth together, compressed his lips, and nerved each muscle in his body for the terrible encounter. Shorty, the newsboy, perched on the barrels, and leaning on the gas-meter, watched the scene with eager eyes. “Ready, Jim?’ asked Catterton, in an under- tone. “Ready but not willin’,” replied the plucky little Englishman. * Are you going to stand out of my way and let me leave this place unmolested?’ demanded the ‘* Marquis.” “No, you don’t leave this place on two legs; when you go, you'll be carried out,” answered the rough, ferociously. - = For the last time I ask you to let me go in ‘**No, not if you were to pay me your weight in gold !” returned Bill, savagely. “Then the consequences be on Lai own head!” cried the ‘‘ Marquis,” through his clench- ed teeth, ° ‘Go for ’em, boys!” howled Bill. Suddenly the saloon was plunged in utter darkness—some one had turned off the gas. ‘‘Hold on! don’t any one move!” shouted Bill, fearful that his prey nee ater ol him in the darkness; but as he and rol encir- cled the strangers, save where the two walls penned them in, escape was not likely. The crowd kept their position in obedience to oe ae of bea! ee e: anWexd ji expected e “Marq an m would attempt to break through the line, and escape in the darkness, but no such attempt was made. In a moment the gas was turned on and the atte , ee asi had disappeared. e arquis ” and Jim Pp Bill could hardly believe his eyes; there was the door against which the two men had stood, but where were the men? With a howl of rage the ruffian rushed to the door. His thought was that the door was un- locked and the two, profiting by the cover of the darkness, had escaped through it, . 8 “s ancy Beadlo’s Dime. Library. a ae eee eee eee ee er 4 But English Bill, dashing himself against the door, found it securely fastened. The ruffians were astonished. With blank countenances they gazed upon each other. ‘Some one of you fellers let ’em pass!” cried Bill, in a rage. Tach and all indignantly denied the soft im- peachment. ‘* Where the blazes did they go to?’ growled Bill, sorely vexed at the escape of the men that he had marked out for his victims. ** And who turned off the gas?” asked one of the ruffians. ‘“ Yes, that is what I'd like to know!” cried Bill. But there was no one to answer that ques- tion. The newsboy, Shorty, perched upon the pile of barrels, had not been noticed by any of the gang, so intent were they upon their prey, and now he had disappeared. “They must have got into the street some- how,” cried Bill, almost wild with rage. ‘‘ Come, fellows!” The roughs rushed quickly out into the street but no trace could they find of the two that “oe so mysteriously disappeared from the dance- ouse, English Bill was rae ve beyond expression. “Tf I hadn’t a-felt him and knowed that he was a man, I swear I should think he was the devil himself,” said the bewildered Just then, Shorty, the newsboy, came down out of the alley. The idea suddenly occurred to Bill that per- haps the two might have taken refuge there. = 6 Shorty!” cried Bill. ‘* What is it?’ demanded the newsboy. ‘“‘ Have you seen a couple of strangers abcut here?’ asked Bill. — ‘* Young fellers?”’ ‘*- Yes,” cried Bill, eagerly. “Dark clothes?” “Yes, yes!” The ruffians advanced eagerly and surrounded Shorty. “Gents?” ‘**'Yes, yes!” chorused half a dozen voices. The roughs began to think they had struck the track again. : x ‘* Good-lookin’ gents?” ‘“Yes, yes!” . “Well, I hain’t seen ’em!” said Shorty, with oe Oh!” Bill made a blow at Shorty, which the boy dexterously avoided, and off he ran up the alley, as fast as his legs would carry him. English Bill was beaten, but unwilling to give up the chase, with his crowd he started up the street, thinking that, perhaps, accidentally, ho might stumble upon the two who had escaped from his clutches in such a mysterious manner. And what did become of the ‘‘Marquis” and his companion? how had they escaped from their terrible peril? We will explain. When the pas was suddenly extinguished, the two were about to improve the opportunity offered them by the darkness and spring upon their foes, when the door behind them was sud- denly opened, and they, taking advantage of the avenue of escape, quickly passed through it. Then the door was closed and bolted, All this had taken but a moment, and in the confusion and noise attending the unexpected advent of the darkness had not been noticed by the fellows who formed the cordon around the two men. In the darkness of the yard a small, soft hand 3 that of the ‘‘ Marquis. ‘‘Give the other gentleman your other hand and follow me,” said a low, sweet voice. The ‘‘ Marquis ” obeyed the instructions. Through the darkness, led on by the small hand of the unknown, who had come so timely to his rescue, Catterton went. They across the yard, up a flight of rickety wooden steps into a house and through a long, narrow passage; then ascended a flight of stairs—worn into u ‘ly holes here and there, eee man-traps—and then they paused be- ore a door. e guide inserted a key into the lock—the door opened; but the room within was as dark as the entry-way. “Come in,” said the voice, The small hand had released its hold of Cat- terton’s to unlock the door. The <“ is” obeyed the injunction and entered the room; Jim followed. The strange guide was evidently as familiar with the route they had come, in the darkness as in the light. For she—by the voice. it was rer a female—had led the way without hesi- tion. unkn de passed across the room Saorahe OM, ” guessed by the sound of her steps. But whether she had left the room, or was atill in it, he was unable to tell, for the d of the footsteps had ceased. aot nies!" whiepcred Jim, “ feietliisin goY” “Yes, I should say it was,” replied the “ 0 97 uis. : “Tt may be hout of the fryin’-pan into the fire,’ said Jim, sagely. “We'll trust to luck,” replied Catterton; ‘whoever this person may be, she has saved us AMUC S) (E) JOO (E(0) ‘