Beadle's Dime Library No. 412 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

f. 2 Larry Locke, the Man of Iron. The only sign about the boy that he might ow into a man some ep tare in his hands and eet, which were big and bony. He did not seem, however, to be in the least unhappy about his forlorn condition, for the afternoon was warm and the birds were singing in the fields. He walked along in the soft dusk by the side of the high-road, and when he had finished munching his crust he began to look out for a brook to drink at, for all the world as a savage might do, who depended on natur®é for his meals. Not sighting a brook, he began to whistle to ass away the time as he trudged on, seeing be- ore him a low swell of ground, on the other side of which floated a cloud of smoke obscuring the setting sun. we Presently, as he trudged up the hill, he heard the sound of wheels behind him, and looked round to see a curious vehicle approaching. To a New York City boy the sight would have been no novelty; but the short boy in the road had never seen a tandem dog-cart before, and such was the fashionable turn-out now ap- proaching him. Two horses, a bay and a roan; silver-plated harness; a pale-yellow dog-cart; a handsome young gentleman, not more than eighteen years of age, wrapped in a duster, driving; a smug groom, with folded arms, white-topped boots, white breeches, silver buttons, and a cockade in his hat; such was the picture seen by the short boy in the road, and one which so amazed him that he stood staring at it, open-mouthed, till it had almost passed him, when he seemed to recollect himself and started forward, crying: ‘¢ Hil mister! hil Say!” The handsome young fellow who was driving seemed to be also a very good-natured gentle- man. He had been watching the sturdy figure of the boy, as he came up, with a smile of some interest, and now he actually pulled up and in- quired: ‘Well, midget, what is it?” The boy turned to him a brown face, with very keen dark eyes, and a firm, resolute-looking mouth, saying in the coolest manner: ‘‘T want you to give mea lift into Holesburg, mister.” : The young man burst into a laugh, while the smug groom at the back of the dog-cart so far forgot his usual severe dignity that he turned round with a scowl on the little tramp and called out angrily: ‘Get out of that, ye imperent young rascal! Shall I get off and give im a ’iding, sir?” ‘‘No, no, Jim; he’s a character,” answered his youngf@naster good-naturedly, and feeling in his pockets as he spoke. ‘‘ See here; what’s your mary oO ” lied the bo edl re e boy, unconcern scanning the venicia: **T say, mister, when get rich, I’m goin’ to have jest sich a turnout as yourn.” “Larry, eh? Larry what?’ asked the young gentleman. ' “Tarry Locke,” in tho same unabashed on. * And where did you come from?” . ty poor-house,” said Larry, coolly. *“l'm a-goin’ to Holesburg to f° inter the mills, that’s what I am, mister. ay, won't ye give us alifét Dve had Lots of lifts.’ @ young man again. yt re ware you're clean, Larry? Got any epers about you?” | colo deeply, for the first time during ey exhibiting self-consciousness, as he answered lenly: ‘Reckon you’d have 'em, if you was me.” young man ga ered up his reins, and his nance as he said: inthropic , or I shouldn't have » you all this time. But we must draw ) somewhere, and I draw it at those ani- ig ere— 3 dived into his pocket and pulled out some ‘I can’t give you a lift, Larry, but here’s something to hel burg. And, mind, don’t spend it all on pie, bat fees bit of soap and try to keep clean. He. tossed Larry a whole handful of small silver, with a careless generosity that showed he had never known what it was to want money, touched his leader with the wis and bowled off, to the great relief of the English groom, who had n intensely fidgety and anxious d the whole interview, fearing that his whimsical young master mi ht take up this dirty little tramp to ride beside him, James bee's that young person, with great philosophy, picked up the money and began to count it aloud to himself in a way that showed he understood the practical part of arithmetic, which deals with hard cash. ‘‘One—two—three quarters—-that’s seventy- five—ten’s eighty-five—golly! what a lot of nickels! By gum! if he ain’t give me a dollar and five cents! That’s as good as a lift, Lem- me see—what’ll I buy? Soap? Well, if ever for iend. Well, I am of you on the way to Holes-: any one told me to buy soap afore! will get a wash.” He hunted yee, his rags and produced a him. a bit of red stuff that had once been part of a cot- ton handkerchief. It was tied in a knot round more money, and he opened it, revealing three ‘* nickels ” and five pennies—his whole store up to that time. He did not stop to count the whole sum, i which to him seemed a vast fortune, but tied | up his windfall with the rest, and trudged on to the top of the hill, from which he had a full i ' ) view of the town of eee es with its per- a etual cloud of brown smoke low his feet. Larry Locke smiled with satisfaction as he saw the town; but his expression changed very quickly when he beheld a party of three tramps seated by the roadside, not very far off, waiting for him to come up. CHAPTER. II. RED MOLL. THEY were thoroughbred tramps, all three. Larry had tramped it too long not to know that at the first glance. Moreover, they were watching for him, though a stranger would not have noticed any- thing peculiar in their demeanor. One lay on his back, another sat up looking one way, the third man glanced another; but Larry well knew they were watching for him. He had met them on the road from Bucks county, and they knew him, too. Nevertheless the philosophic boy never quick- ened his pace; neither did he halt, but tramped | steadily on, keeping in the middle of the road, | till he was near them, when the recumbent man sat up and called out in a wheedling tone: “Hi! Larry! Larry!” | “Tm in a hurry, I am,” returned the boy, ee walking on, but keeping the corner of his eye onthem,. ‘Got any message to give?” ‘*Yes,” responded the tramp. ‘“‘ What’s yer hurry, Larry boy? Can’t ye stop and pass the time of day with a pal, hey?” By this time Larry was abreast of the last man, and had aclear road before him, so he | called back as he began to trot away slowly: ‘* Hain’t got no time! Got a’p’intment with | the Guv’ner o’ Pennsylvany at noon, I have. Good -by!” ‘*Stop! ye darned young scalawag!” the tramp roared, ferociously, finding coaxing to be useless, and as he spoke he jumped up and began to run after the boy, who instantly took to his heels and fled like a deer. Disguise was cast aside, for as he ran he heard the three tramps cursing horribly and encourag- ing each other. ‘Hit him with a stone! cripple- him!” roared one of them; and with that a stone went whiz- zing by the boy’s head with a force that must pre stunned or killed him had the blow taken effect. Larry never, looked behind him, but ho watched the stone as it rolled ahead of him, and on he ran, faster than ever. Presently he passed it, picked it up as he went, ran a few steps further and stopped, fac- ing. round, he leading tramp was about twenty yards ' off, roaring out curses to terrify him still fur- ther, as he believed, while the other two had been- thrown out, and were trotting on with open mouths, already distressed by the pace. ‘‘Gimme that money! I seen ye get it,” the leading tramp yelled; and on he came, with his arms outstretched to clutch the boy, who waited till his enemy was within less than ten feet. Then, with a force and precision amazing in i ‘one so small—for he did not look over twelve ears old—he cast the stone full in the tramp’s ace, taking him between the eyes with a crack like that of a whip. Not a sound came from the tramp, who stum- bled and dropped in the road like a slaughtered ox, when the boy, not waiting for further devel- opments wheeled round and sped away again. Not till he had gone near a quarter of a mile did he slacken his pace, and then he looked back and saw that the two tramps had raised their friend and were carrying him to the roadside. Then Larry Locke grinned, and said, aloud: “Get my money, would ye? Well, I'd like to see ye do it.” Away he went again toward the distant cfty of Holesburg at a dog-trot, which he seemed able to keep up for an unlimited time, and never halted till cottages began to mark the outskirts of civilization, when he slackened to a walk and ceased to look back over his shoulder. By this time people and vehicles were pass- ing and repassing, and he felt pretty warm af- ter his run; so he kept a bright lookout round him, and presently spied a girl about his own size, who stood by the roadside, with a switch in her hand, watching a flock of six goats, and eying him as he came on ina way that rather seemed to invite a conversation. She was a freckle-faced girl, whose single gar- ment was made of pink cotton, patched with divers colors, leaving a pair of shining brown legs and arms bare, seamed with scratches. On her head she wore a most disreputable sun- nging over it, | Reckon I_ bonnet of blue cotton, and her hair fell over her eyes, so she had to shove it back to look at Larry noticed, however, that the hair was red —very red, indeed—but singularly bright and glittering in the sun, where it came out from under the hood, and he thought to himself: “That gal’s as dirty asI be. Wonder what she’d say if 1 was to tell her she ought to use ys Ba e made no audible remark, but went on as soberly as ever, till close to the little goat-herd, who accosted him: ‘** Hello, boy!” ; She said “hello!” in an indifferent sort of way, which might mean anything in the world, and Larry responded affably: ‘** Hello, gal!” The signal responded to, the ice seemed to be broken, for the goat girl retorted: ** Hello yourself! Say! what’s your name?” “Larry Locke,” answered the boy, halting. **'What’s yours?” The red-headed damsel gave her shoulders a shake, and her head a toss, as she answered: ‘* Well, I declare! Ain’t you got no more manners than to ax a lady’s name? I ain’t goin’ to tell you.” Larry grinned. **T know what it is, anyhow.” She turned up her nose at him. ‘No, ye don’t. Now! What is it?” ‘* Tt’s Sall,” decided Larry, at a venture. ‘It ain’t no sich thing,” she retorted, putting out her face and looking impudent. ‘‘ Sall, in- deed! Jest as if J’d be called Sall. My name’s Taber, and don’t you forget it, mister; Miss Taber.” Then she tried to look ineffably tall, but sud- denly came down from her dignity to ask curiously: **Say, boy, where did you come from?” ** Bucks county,” responded Larry, frigidly. ‘* Say, do you live here, Moll?” “How'd you know my name was Moll?” de- manded Miss Taber, surprised. ‘Say, you’rea real nice boy, but don’t you go to callin’ me no Red Moll, or I'll be mad at you.” Larry eyed her from head to foot. He rather liked her, for she looked strong and sturdy, like himself; but his chief interest in her lay in the fact that he had always found girls tender- hearted and willing to get him surreptitious meals by way of the back door. So he answered: ‘*T'd whip any feller callin’ you Red Moll.” ‘“ Would ye?” asked the girl eagerly. ‘‘ Yes, would I,” retorted Larry. ‘‘ You try me some day. Say, Molly, do you live here?” Miss Taber pointed toward the smoke. ‘“Out a bit beyond here. I’m a bounder, I em, to Mrs. Skelly.” Larry nodded wisely. ‘“They was goin’ to make me a bounder, too, they was, to a darned old cobbler. Me on a bench, cobblin’ shoes! No, sir. I jest skipped in time. Say, Moll, do you know anything ’bout the steel-works here, where they takes ’prenticest I’m a-goin’ to be an iron man, I am. Miss Taber nodded her head. ‘* Skelly works there. It’s in Skinner’s.” ** And where’s Skinner’s?” asked Larry. “Right by theriver. You'll know it by the black stripe down the chimbley,” said Miss Taber. ‘* But say—” ‘“* What’s the matter?” Skelly’s a furnaceman and he wants a helpe —' ‘* That suits me,” interrupted Larry. ‘‘ What does he have to do?” ‘* Dump the ore and the coal into the furnace, while the helper fills the barrers,” Miss Taber explained. * eS nn elig - = Weete me toadot! I aaa to have toshovel all the coal there wasin the County House. Say, where does Skelly live?” Molly Taber pointed down the road to a little shanty up on some rocks, where a woman could be seen hanging out some washing. ‘‘That’s Mother Skelly,” she said, ‘‘and Jim will be home soon now. There goes the whistles.” : As she spoke, the hoarse tam 8 of a hund- red steam whistles from the smoke that canopied Holesburg announced the hour of six, and Miss Molly added: * You come along, and Ill show you the way.” Larry, nothing loth, waited till she had got her goats together, when he followed her down to the shanty, which he reached just as Mrs. Skelly came out, screaming: ** Molly! Molly! Yo lazy, red-headed trollop, sila pa have ye been all the time with the goats? ‘‘Up the road a piece,” returned Molly, 1n @ manner that showed she was not much afraid of Mrs. Skelly, whose bark was much worse than her bite. ‘* And I found this a am, who wants to help Mr. Skelly in the : Mrs. Skelly looked at Larry critically. ‘‘ Sure and he ain’t big enough, Molly. How old are ye, bubby?” ‘be ‘Sixteen, ma’am,” answered Larry, civilly, €om cS O}OO) (E ‘4 1s . > : % d f *