Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 363 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

« } iM, pl ‘ 7 ‘ + a | _ street "bout an hour ago, an’ the chances are big 8 He was watching the boys sail their miniature boats on the frog-pond—to give the little sheet of water in the center of the Commen its old- time name—when an old, disreputable-lcoking man who held some lead-pencius in his hand, came shambling up to him. “Say, sonny, don’t yer want to help a poor eld man along by buying a lead-pencil?’ he asked, surveying the boy’s face as he spoke with a curious look, **No, thank you, sir,” replied the boy, who had been brought u» to treat a beggar as po- litely asaking, ‘‘I have plenty of lead-pencils ct home.” ‘““Lemme see,” remarked the old man in a reflective sort-of-way. “Tt "pears to me as if Td seen you afore somewhere, Don’t you live over yonder on Beacon street?” ‘Yes, sir,” responded the lad, who was not particularly impressed by the looks of the old fellow, yet saw no harm in replying to a civil question. ‘Yes, yes, [lnowed I’dseen youafore, though ou were only a babby then. Yer name is ‘rowningshield, isn’t it?” oY Oly BT.” **Oh, I knowed I knew yer. linow yer mother onc’t.” ‘“My mother!’ exclaimed the lad eagerly, unable to express his curiosity. ‘‘ Aha! that hits you where you live, don’t it?” and the old tramp, who was no other than our encient friend, Old Lead Pencil, chuckled glee- ruly. “Yes, yes, I know’d yer mother an’ a nasty trick she played me too, onc’t, but that’s neither here nor there, ’cos I reckon T'll live long enuff fer to git squar’ with her fer it. “Say, has yer pop found out w’ot ever become of er mother?” 3y this question, so abruptly put, the boy saw that the strange old man knew all about his mo- ther’s mysterious disappearance, and so he judg- cd that it would not be of any use for him to dis- play any reserve about the matter, and then, too, the idea had occurred to him that it was possible the old tramp might be able to give him some information in regard to his motker. So he answered frankly. ~ No, sir. he has never heard anything about ‘er, ‘* He’s tried his level best to hunt ker up, I onose?” oF Nes, ‘© An’ couldn't work the trick, nohow?” w Oy Mike “Hoe ought to have hunted me up. I’m the man, I reckon, w’ct could haye put him on the right track an’ no mistake, ’cos ’m_a reg’lar Lioodhound, Iam. My name is Old Lead Pen- cil, an’ [rm a rounder from Rounderville.” *T’m sure papa would be very glad to see you,” Adenis exclaimed, “ Ob, Tm the man he’s lookin’for. Why I kin’ take you now where you'll have a chance to ses yer mother, but you see there wouldn’t ke any use of my coing that, *cos you wouldn't now her if you Cid see her,’ ‘Yes, yes, [ would!” cried the boy, eagerly. ‘Yer would?” exclaimed Old Lead Pencil, as- tonished. Yes, sir; papa painted a picture of mamma, and he says it’s just like her and I’m sure I would know her anywhere!” ‘‘Are you game tocome along with me an’ take a squint at yer mamma es she rides by in her carriage, 9s gay as a queen?” “Yes, sir; I’m not afraid to go.” ** Aha, you’re a spunky leetle chap—got more it into yer than a long-tailed clam ; that’s w’ot f like tosee. ILain’t fond of milksop boys. You look kinder soft with yer golden curls, but I reckon youre more of a man than you look, so come along an’ Pll soon show you,w’ot’s the time o’ day!” The old man started toward Tremont street, and the boy trotted along by his side. ‘‘- Yer marm give me the slip jist "bout the same time that she hoofed it from yer dad, an’ T’ve been on the lookout for her ever since. kinder had an ides that she would show up in Bostin here ag’in an’ to-day for the first time I caught sight of her. She rode down Tremont IT used fer to gir;?? ‘that she'll be back socn,” When they arrived at the Tremont street side of the park, the old man and boy sat down upon a bench. Hardly had they done so, when a handsome open carriage containing a gentieman and lady drove by, and the boy immediately recognized in the lady tho original of the picture of his mother. ““Mamma, mamma!” he cried at the top of his voice, jumping on the bench in his excite- ment. CHAPTER IX. ‘ CURLY KID. THE iage was procecdine at a rapid pace though, and as there were quite a number of other vehicles in the street, the voice of little Goldenlocks was partially drowned by the noise made by the horse’s hoofs and the wheels, ’ Se ED _ deceased cee LLL LILA TL ALLL LOCAL EL A LL ALLER fa] —ee_=ee_e ———— ee 7 The lady, who was sitting on the side of the carriage nearest to the Commen, looked directly at the two, though, and Old Lead Pencil felt satisfied that they had not escaped her observa- tion, although she did not manifest by any sign that she had perceived them. She was magnificently dressed, and every- thing about her and the gentleman who sat by her side, handling the reins, as well as the mag- nificent turn-out, gave indication of wealth. In appearance, she was the perfect image of of his beautiful wife. And though it was nearly nine years since the riage did not look to be a day older, and her beauty really exceeded that of the picture. The gentleman was astout, rather roug h-look- ing man, well advanced in years, a man over fifty; with a round, bullet-like head; coarse, strongly-marked features; small, deep-set eyes, a light, uncertain blue in color; scanty iron-gray chin beard of the same hue. Despite his coarse, really rough appearance, and upon his little finger and in the m of his shirt, sparkled a pair of twin diamonds worth a good five thousand dollars of anyhody’s money. And there was that peculiar air about the possession of power and wealth. The carriage disappeared amid tke vehicles in the distance, and little Goldenlocks resumed his seat upon the bench, shaking his head in a thoughtful way. Old Lead Pencil watched him with eager eyes; the odd way of the thoughtful boy puzzled him. asked. ‘‘ That’s her, ain’t it?’ she looks just like the picture which hangs in papa’s studio. I would know her anywhere!” ** She looked our way, but she didn’t make no sign as how she recognized us,” the old tramp remarked in a reflective sort of way. ** Yes, sir, I'm sure she saw us, and though I cried out mamma as loud as I could, yet the carriages and horses made so much noise, that F think she’d know me now, fcr she hasn’t seen me since I was a little baby, and I’m a big boy,” and the little fellow rose to his feet and drew himself up to his full hight as he spoke. “Oh, no, she wouldn’t know _you, of course, but she would know me,” and Old Lead Pencil indulged in a cunning leer. ‘* Would she?” and the boy appeared a little incredulous as he surveyed his disreputable com- panion. **You bet she would!” Old Lead Pencil an- swered promptly. ‘*Oh, yer needn’t to! squint at me,” he con- tinued, quick to notice the incredulous look upon the face of the boy. | ‘*T didn’t allers go ’round like this ’ere. I was a first-class gentleman onc’t, an’ yer kin bet all yer wealth on it, a reg’lar howling swell, but I went through alot of misfortunes an’ got ulled down. I was sick with the rheumatics or nigh onto ten years, an’ *bout all that time, off an’ on, I was in a hospital. “My relations got away with my money, an’ nobody was willing to do anything for me, an’ when a man ain’t got no friends an’ no money, an’ ain’t able for to do any hard work besides, he’s likely to have a mighty hard row to hoe in this ’ere wor'd.” ““T suppose so,” remarked the lad, compassion- ‘An’ then, when I couldn’t get anything else to do, I took up this ’ere lead-pencil game, aw’ I manage to get a livin’ out of it. ‘“‘Tain’t much of a livin’, yer know. I don’t git many quails on toast, or many hacks at roast turkey with oyster sauce, an’ the amount cf champagne I git away with in the course of a year wouldn’t drown a good-sized fly. *T don’t dine at the Parker House either, an’ a ten-cent bed in a cheap lodging-house is good- enough for me, so I don’t patronize the Revere, or the Hotel Vendome as much as I used to. But it’s hard lines for an old fakir who has been through the wars, an’ I’d put a stop to it years ago if yer marm hadn't ae back on me; but this time I reckon I will play the game so keer- fully as to get her dead to rights,” and_the ugly expression which came over his battered features as he uttered the words, caused the boy to open his eyes with wonder. Just at this point a couple of well-dressed gentlemen who had been promenading along the walk coming from the direction of Boylston street, had their attention directed to the old man and the child, and they immediately came up to the two, halting before them. As we have said, both were fashionably at- tired, and bore the appearance of men who amounted to something. One, the taller of the two, was a finely-propor- tioned, muscular fellow, with a rather good- looking face, excepting that it had a rough ap- irance, as though its owner had been exposed the fury of the elements in following some out-door life like a sailor’s. __ There were faint lines here and there too, as f < hair, and a bristling mustache, with a pointed | he was dressed in the best that speed could buy, | Crowningshield, the Sleuth. the picture which the young artist had painted | portrait had been painted, the lady in the car- | man, too—the arrogance which comes from the | ‘“Wal, wot do yer think of yer marm?” he | es, sir, I am sure it is my mamma, ’cos | though the face had been bruised and battered at some time, but the marks were barely visible. An attack of the feature-disfiguring small-pex wculd be apt to produce similar results, His companion was smaller in stature and nore slender in build, but a handsome fellow with a jaunty air. He had ccal-black hair, which clustered in little crispy curls all over his well-shaped head. His eyes were black and brilliant, his features 1¢gular, the mouth shaded by a luxuriant jet- Llack mustache, and altogether he was what an admiring girl would call “ a carling of a fellow.” His hands were singularly white and the fin- gers long and slender, and ke carried himself with the languid, careless air of a well-bred man of fortune, a complete contrast to his companion, who had a brisk, commanding way with him. ** Hallo, you old bumbug! What are you up to?’ demanded tho tall man who answered to the name of Michael Donegan, although among ihe men who knew him best he wes far better known as Curly Kid than by his own preper ap- pellation. But it wasa strange fact that even amcng those who were most accustomed to using this nickname when speaking of him, the reason for applying such an cdd name was not known. e always wore his sandy hair cut short, but if it was allowed to grow, it curled as tight] almost as a negro’s wool and this in his yout cave him the nickname, which had stuck to him as tightly as his baptismal appellation. His companion boasted a much more aristo- cratic ogee Gh being known as Raymond Randolph, and the | pevisaresra of the name, the olliteration, led to the suspicion that it was not his own but an assumed appellation; the gentle- man, however, always protested strongly against this assumption. ‘So help me Bob, guv’ner, I ain’t up to noth- _ in’,” whined the old man, betraying by his man- don’t suppose she heard me, ond then I don’t | _ ner that he stood in awe of the questioner. - “T wouldn’t take your word for that,” respon- ded the other, transfixing the tramp with his steady gaze. ‘‘I neverran across ycu yet when you wasn’t up to some mischief.” And then he took a good lock at the boy, who met his gaze fearlessly enough, for there wasn’t anything about the gentleman to excite his ap- prrehensicns, ‘What is your name, my little man?” he asked. ** Adonis, sir, Adonis Crowningshield.” * Ah, yes, I thought I knew you. Youruncle, old Captain Crowningshield, livesover yonder on Beacon street, doesn’t he?” ‘* ‘Yes, sir.” * And what are you doing here with thisman?”’ With a warning look Old Lead Pencil endeay- ored to caution the boy not to tell, but the other had his eyes upon him and put a stop at once to the maneuver. ‘‘None of that!” he exclaimed, ‘‘or Tll be obliged to be ugly!” The old tramp shivered and feebly protested that he wasn’t doing anything, but the cther only smiled Soe a hs oe Little Goldenlocks, who didn’t see any reason why he should keep the matter a secret, an- swered readily enough: ‘* He brought me to see my mamma, who went away when I wasa baby, and papa has been looking for her ever since.” ‘* And did you see her?” ‘Yes, sir, she just went by in a carriage; maybe you saw her, sir, a beautiful lady with golden hair justlike mine?” Curly Kid took a good look at the boy and then he shook his head. ‘*No, I didn’t notice her, but you had better run home now, sonny, and you, you old black- guard, you just get out, for I think you are up to some mischief.” Adonis did not dream of disobeying the com- mand and started across the common, while Old Lead Pencil slunk away in the direction of Park street. ° He knew he could get at the boy at any time and he was too well acquainted with Curly Kid to dare to disobey his orders. The two gentlemen followed slowly behind him and when Old Lead Pencil discovered that they were apparently watching him, he went out of the Common, hailed a car, got on board and so disappeared. Curly Kid watched until the car was lost in the distance and then he spoke, rapidly, to his companion. ‘**Ray, you are down on your luck, ain’t you?” **Oh, yes, ’'m regularly cleaned out, and in that state of mind that if I owned a pistol I would as lieve put it to my head and make a die of it as not.” ‘Ray, you were always afraid to go into anything outside of cards and dice, but if Ishow you a chance to make a big stake now have you got the sand to try for it, even though you risk ten years or soin the Stone Jug if the thing is a failure?” ‘* How big a stake?” “From ten to twenty thousand dollars!” 9 pico me in! Ill risk it for once ia my e! ** We must ‘akeashort cut then and intercept — a a a _ snag i f } : r the boy!” | <“S Gomichboo 4 or