Beadle's Dime Library No. 412 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

+ - ‘ —— = —_—~. ;e | <i _ proud old pig, he was, with his ‘en | rt of Holesburg where Lge , , Fe . o-* » half the sum: oo “Tf it must be, it must, get on while you’re gone. *) wane > ie ' = . — . the last chapter and put silks and (ae sco A ag oper a coarse sort of a Soper AY Sig la : ¥ As « uy 12 mind—that’s nothing to do with this story. Anyway I let him in, and he told me how his 1 on the road, one he called Snoopey, had wt sneaking round Larry’s cottage the very day we had the muss, and seen the wife pokin’ away some money in a mattress, and how he sent Snoopey back there at night, as soon as he _» heard of Larry’s arrest, and Snoopey got in and stole the money. Whatdo you think of that?” **T d@no’,” said Tom, —_ ly. ‘*‘ What of it?” ** Don’t ye see, Tom? hy, boy, how much d’ye think there was in that mattress?” — * How much?” ‘* Seven hundred dollars exactly, Tommy, and all in fifty-dollar bills.” , ‘“* Well, what of that?” Old Skinner made an impatient movement. ‘You ain’t used to bein’ so dumb, Tommy, boy. Just as soon as I heard itI said: ‘That's savings for something or other,’ and to-day - shows what it is. He saved that rev. am pay off the mortgage, and that’s just what Scriven’s after to-day.” ** But what’s that to us?” asked Tom. ** Nothen’ at all, Tommy, only this: Cranemen can’t save up rio seven hundred dollars a second ‘time in three months here, nor in Ohio nuther, sey he’s a-going to fall short in paying Peter Kgs. A smile of dawring intelligence began to cross Tom’s countenance, and he ejaculated: “ Well, dad, you’re a deep one, you are,” Mr, Skinner nodded ee ‘“‘T ain’t generally called a fool, Tommy, boy not since 1 cut my wisdom-teeth, though T will admit I come near makin’ a darned fool of my- self, twenty-three years ago. If I'd ha’ mar ried your mother, boy, you’d ha’ been a jawful one no doubt; but we’d ha’ been grub- bin’ in the dirt like Locke, and it was only cause you didn’t have no legal hold on me, the old man took water at last. Oh, he wasa Van Beavers: and he didn’t want any one to know you was his flesh and blood as much as Paul. But I fooled him at the last, and now I’ve got the property, and if I can’t leave it to you when dead, [ can give it to you, while you’re alive, and me too, Tommy. And in the mean time, the sooner we get to Peter Briggs’s house, _ the better for me, Tom, G’lang there.” i He touched up the horses with the whip, and - away rattled the natty oe toward the . Peter Briggs re- CHAPTER XVII. THE LAWYER'S VISIT. Mouuy Locke was hanging out the clothes to _ dry and singing at her work when the dog-cart , and she did not seo the evil glance cast at her by old Skinner. She was singing at her _ -work as if she had never known care, yet she had jived in the little ts Se with her baby _ 4or three months, while Larry was hundreds o ‘miles off, working in another State. They had lost the money they had saved by ree ig privation and hard work, and they knew =e hen the a came for the last payment - on the mortgage they would not be able to raise The house had been robbed by Snoopey the _ tramp, and they knew well enough that they would never find him, short of a miracle, while Larry, through the lock-out, had been thrown ‘3 4 : out of work in the town. Under these circumstances most men would have despaired, and most women would have sunk down hel less ; but La had not earned the name of the ‘““Man of Iron” without de- _ serving it, and his wife never shed a tear after i e had got him back safe from the clutches of w. _ “Tf there ain’t work here, there’s work in Ohio,” Larry had said. ‘We ain't as bad off as we might be, Molly. We've got health and oe ee and the rest will come tous. Dllhave . 461 eave you and baby awhile.” _ ‘Molly “had paled a little when she first heard that; but she clinched her teeth to keep down the feeling of weakness, and answered: , boy. I can Lots of folks will _ give me washing.” Basho And that was how she came to be hanging out the clothes in the garden when Giriene 3 - -*Alone in her little house, with her husband - away, she had managed to keep herself and the * ‘ fe Dame Heterttty, and sung as she toiled, as many woman has done in her place, Not all the heroes in America wear the epau- “ Bs lets of the general, and there are heroines at ‘the washtub who face peril and misfortune as 4 grandly as a tragedy queen, with all her ) M Locke, ‘*Red Moll,” carroty-haired Me ¢ \ fo , brought up in a work-house, with no _ fine unknown parents to came and claim ber in d diamonds on roine to pre- sent to the eultivated reader, but then, you know, she couldn’t help being _ dng a clear right to live and pursue happiness in rm, and, hav- aes eres a — ~~ rr ee GaP ee ome oe Larry Locke, the Man of Iron. her own way, she was doing the best she knew how, in taking care of baby ite He didn’t care whether he lived in a palace or a hoyel, as long as he was warm and had enough to eat, and he had grown as strong as a young borse, so to speak, in the three summer months, while Larry was away in Ohio, quite unmind- ful of the fact that the house where he was born was mortgaged, and that old Peter Briggs might foreclose on his mother any day. ut Molly; had she forgotten? One would have thought so, to hear her sing at her work, but she hadn’t for all that, and i* she had done so, she was very suddenly remind- ed of it by the smooth voice of Mr, Scriven behind her saying: ‘*Good-day, Mrs. Locke.” She turned round to face the old lawyer, with a flutter at her heart. ‘*Good-day, sir,” she said. ‘Did you come to see Larry? I’m sorry he’s ores but you know since the reduction at the mill, where he struck, he couldn’t get any more work in Holes- mg But he’s working, sir, and so am I, and we ope— ‘*There, there,” interrupted the old lawyer, not unkindly, ‘‘I know all about it, Mrs. ke. Your husband was not to blame. But, the fact is, you know, Mr. Briggs says that he wants his money, Have you heard from your husband lately? “Yes, sir,” said Molly, eagerly, ‘‘and he’s saving money as fastashe can, If Mr. Briggs would only wait another year—” Mr. Scriven pursed up his lips. *‘['m afraid that’s not ible, You see, if Locke was working here, it would be different: but a man who roams about can’t be depended on.” ‘*Larry doesn’t roam about,” retorted Oy with + gore “*Tf he had stayed here he wou d be half-starving, like all the rest of them. And you know we had the money saved, sir, when we were robbed; and that wasn’t Larry’s fault, was it?” Scriven shrugged his shoulders. ‘*TPve heard of that.. It wouldn’t have ha ned if my had had your money in a bank, ike sensible people. e ignorance of the working-classes brings on half their troubles. However, that’s none of my affair. The mort- gage is due to-morrow. Are you ready to pay i 9 ‘*No,” returned Molly, desperately. ‘We can’t pay it. If you'll give us time we can. We've got a hundred and eighty dollars saved, and that’s all. If Mr. Briggs will giveus a year we'll pay him in installments. at’s what ITY says. The old lawyer looked at her narrowly. He was not an unkind man, but business makes any one hard, ** Pll see what I can do for you,” he said cold- he ‘but I warn you that [ don hove for much. vigee is a close, hard man.” ‘**T know he is,” returned Molly, rather mourn- fully, “but he ain’t tmjust, and he knows we don’t want to wrong him, Do what you can for us, sir, and I'll bo so grateful to you.” But she could not ai high health and spirits had failed her at last; and she came Wary uear <.yiig as she took the baby’s cradle into the house. But she kept at her work ag steadily a ~« Larry’s last letter, in which he said: “Tf he won't give you any more Mr, Paul says to let him go ahead. It will take these months to foreclose, and if the worst comes and we're sold out, you’ve got enough money to come here to me. But before the three months are up, Ill have the hein? AN aah somehow; for I’ve found the way to beat bosses now.”’ *“ What can he mean?” she kept saying to her- self as she read. ‘‘ He has found the way to beat the bosses. What is it, 1 wonder?” But she had no time to think over it or decide it, for it was coming on toward sunset, and she had a good deal to do, By the time she had got in her clothes and prepared for epee it was dusk, and just then ree eard a vehicle drive up and stop before the oor, Thinking it a message from Seriven, she hur- ried out, and saw a nage dog-cart, with a tan- dem team, before the door, a groom at the horses’ heads, while a tall, stout young man, extravagantly dressed, with a coarse, dissipa- ted face, was coming up the path. Molly recognized him in a minute as Mr. Thomas Trainor, and straightened into a statue of dignity as he advanced. Tom, on the other hand, grinned affablv, say- ing: f Good-evenin’, Molly.” ‘“ Mrs, Locke, if you please,” retorted Molly. **T’m not Molly to any but old friends.” * And ain’t I an old friend?” asked Tom. ‘Why, don’t ye remember when we was kids the County House together? Quite a change sence then, Moliy. You’ve grown most uncommon handsome, sence then.” **T don’t hope .ov much,” returued fScriven, | and he went away, while Molly returned to her | work, fore, and every now aad thea she looked ove. | ‘Did you come here to tell me that?” asked she, with a glitter in her eyes that showed she was angry. Since she had lived alone so long, she had quite got over her terror of tramps, and alwavs. kept some weapon within reach, which she was: not afraid to use. Snoopey could not have gone throngh the: house a second time with the ease he did before. Molly had become as bold as a tigress in defense: of her young one. Tom Trainor tried to laugh; but the effort: was an awkward one. ‘‘No, no,” he said; “not exactly that, but surely it’s no harm to tell you, is it?” ‘‘What did you come for?” asked Molly, coldly. ‘‘You and me ain’t friends, sir, and. certainly my husband and you ain’t.” ‘Why, Molly!” exclaimed Tom, in an in- pes sort of way. ‘‘I ain’t got nothen’ ’gainst. Lim. and me fit, six year ago, but we» don’t bear no malice.” ‘“Then what did you come for?” asked she, not offering to move aside for him. Tom hesitated a moment, and then said ina low tone of voice: ‘* It’s something about the mortgage. I don’t. want the man to hear it,” Molly changed color at once. ‘The mortgage? Yow ain’t got anything to. do with our mortgage,” she said, hastily. Tom shook his head and nodded in a very significant way. ‘If you’ll let me come in [ll show you if haven’t,” he said, slyly. Molly, looking at him, as if she doubted her senses, slowly drew back and said: ‘‘Tell me what you mean. I don’t care who» hears it. What is it?” Tom drew closer. “The old man’s gone to Briggs and hought the mortgage,” he said, ‘‘ to get even on Larry for lamming him. You can tell whether he’s: likely to give ye any more time or not,” Molly listened, and her heart sunk within: her, for she knew the meaning of what he said too well. She braced her nerves sufficiently to answer him, however. “Very well. Is that all?’ “Tf you'll let me come in,”. said Tom, in a. pleading way, ‘‘Tll tell ye. I ain’t the old. man, if don’t want to be hard on ye. ‘What do you want to say?’ asked she, with a vague fear of something impending. Tom slipped into the house as she fell back, and immediately whispered: ‘*T don’t want him to hear, ye know. Look, here. I can get the old man to give ye all tie time ye went. He'll do anything for me; any- thing in the world.” Molly stared at him incredulonsly. ‘You? You do mea kind action? Larry? You? Why should you? love i. any too much,” Tom grinned and came closer. ‘* Maybe I don’t; but I love some one else a heap, Molly; and I kin do what I say for her sake. D’ye know who I mean?” Molly drew back a pace or two, with a strange: gleam in her eyes, repeating in a half-wLisper: ** You? you? What do you mean?” ‘‘I mean that I am desperate fond of yon, You help You don’t. any more, Even/ier | Moliy,” he answered, with a leer of affection. ‘‘Larry’s gone away to Ohio, and be won’t never come back. The old man will take godéd care of that. Sas, Moll, why shouldn’t you and me be good friends, while he’s gone? Til get the old man to give ye time, Molly. Gosh, Ill do bet- ter than that, Pll get you the money, so he won't never know who give it toye. And all I want in return is that Gece? 7 | He suddenly started back, as if he saw in her eyes, something that amazed him and fright- ened him too. Molly had drawn back near the stove and had her hand on a pot of water that was simmering there, - His start came a moment too late, for before he could reach the door the pot of water nearly boiling, was emptied over his back, so that he ran yelling down the path faster than he had come, while Molly, wild with fury, had caught. up a hot poker and was following him to the Tom Trainor was so thoroughly astounded and demoralized by the unexpectedly vigorous. assault of the indignant Molly Locke that he ran to his cart as bard as he could go, te 90 in without a word, and lashed up his horses before the m could get to his place behind. e consequence was that, when Molly reached the front gate, both horses were running away at a breakneck gallop and the groom was run- ning also, as hard as he could, after the cart. en the angry woman stopped and began to tremble; for she thought of what she had done as she went back to the house, her nerves aquiver, and sat down to “ have a good cry,” a= she expressed it. But she took care to keep the road in sight while she wept, and that was the reason she saw, a very little while after, the yellow dog- cart coming rd Tom and all, and saw him sto before tee Sor roi to shake his whip and curse y; < ‘ you was darned smart, you was, Red Moll; a comicbooks: ° : «Ss 4% a s f ‘“. — on ne he . . $ * i»