Beadle's Dime Library No. 412 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

-yushed down the s'‘airs and a number of people made their appearance at -and the next moment down t going on which he got to say, and be quick about it.’ ta Thar Larrv Locke, the Man of Iron. the workmen go to the door cf Room 17, and lis- ‘tened anxiously till the scuffling began, when he said to Tom with a chuckle. ‘They're getting it, and he’s getting wiped out. It’s worked to a charm, Tommy boy. Let us get out of this, sono one can’t say we'd ‘nothen to do here.” And he started for the staircase with Tom, just as the crowd rushed toward Room 17, leav- { ing the rest of the hall bare. ‘*Stop,” whispered Tom, clutching his arm and pointing down-stairs, ‘‘ There’s that cussed Paul. Why didn’t we have him up there, too, father?’ ; Old Skinner looked down and saw his nephew standing by the desk at the office, looking over the register as if searching foraname. ‘‘Curse you,” Le muttered, shaking his fist furtively. ‘* I wish I could get you up here into the fight. I'd get a chance at you.” At that moment the row in Room 17 became a regular free fight, and the trampling of feet, shouting and swearing, began to attract atten- tion all over the hotel, in spite of the thick deaf- ened floors and the buzz of the crowd, The cry arose: “Fight! fight!” Then a man somewhere in the rear yelled: ‘Fire! fire!” Then came trampling feet rushing overhead |. and down-stairs, while the screams of women became audible. Paul Van Beaver, at the desk, looking over the register, heard it and started round to listen. The clerks behind the counter heard it too, and one hastily slammed the door of the safe and said to his colleague in a tone of excite- ment: ‘‘ Look out for things down here. The pol- iticians have got to fighting, and there’ll be a nic. Then he darted away up-stairs, two steps at a time, and Paul was about to follow, when some one behind bim said: ‘‘ Say, mister, for God’s sake, listen to me,” Paul turned, and saw a ragged, sneaking- looking man, who continued nervously: ‘‘T’ve b’en lookin’ for ye all over. Larry wouldn’t listen tome. Don’tdothesame, Be- fore Heaven, I’ve got dean, to tell ye.” The noise up-stairs became louder, and the porters and waiters be to rush up to see what was the matter, as Paul said: ‘“Who are you? What do you want with me?” ‘‘T’m Snoopey,” returned the ragged man, in a low, hurried tone. ‘* You’re Mr. Van Beaver, ain't you?” ‘¢- Yes,” replied Paul, puzzled. ‘‘ But what do “c“ J you want? Money?” ‘*Not a cent,” said Snoopey, earnestly. want to tell yer suthin’, mister, I heard it last night. There’s a plot tokill youand Larry. 1 tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen to ‘me—” The noise overhead was deafening now, and -down came a waiter, running as hard as he could, yelling as he : ‘Run! Run! They’re killing people!” Out of the door he ran, and they heard a great crash on the floor above. The next moment Marcellus Skinner and Tom dashed out; while the head of the broad staircase, struggling hard to keep from being pushed down, and a rfect tempest of shouts and curses could be rd on the landing. | Snoopey looked up, as if paralyzed with fear, ) hispered to Paul: ar My God! Weill be killed here, Run! run!” ke, he clung to the young man’s arm rye er : e stairs rolled a living torrent of humanity, tripping and stum- bling, to come sweeping along the corridor to- ward Paul and Snoopey. The young man hurried out into the street just in time to escape being crushed, and the frst person he saw was his uncle, looking very pale, while Tom Trainor stood beside him, trembling and appalled. ** Don’ ae them,” whispered Snoopey, on. ‘' Take me to some ce where we kin talk quiet. I tell ye it be ‘worth money to ye.” Paul hesita no longer. Something was did not understand, and noopey, whoever he was, held the key to it. He took Snoopey’s arm and hurried the tramp off down a side street to Scriven’s office, where he took him into the sanctum, locked the door and said: ‘‘ Now I’m ready to listen. Sa what you’ve Thus urged, Snoopey told him, after a great deal of cross-questioning and explanation, a tale that astonished Paul immeasurably. It seemed that the tramp, after hearing what ‘he had heard the previous evening, at Skinner’s house, had made bi escape pages ona had been hunting about ever since for one to whom he could tell his secret. He had not dared to go near Terror Jim, of whom he stood in mortal Lear, ‘ * , bev, SO 2 [he ji 4 > ay af a é i {eo , —_— = I COE eA eT Pee Pee? SUM 2: oe ‘ ; ** He'd ha’ got it out of me, sure, mister,” he said. ‘‘ You don’t know Terror Jim. He’d ha’ made me own up and go with him. But I give him the slip, and I seen him this mornin’, with a lot of his pals, go into that very house where I found you.” ‘‘Into the Berkely!” said Paul, amazedly; ‘‘ with a lot of tramps? They wouldn't let them in. You must be mistaken.’ ‘**T ain’t,” said Snoopey, earnestly. ‘““T seen him and them, all dressed up in new cloze. | They’d b’en shaved and cleaned up so one | im well | wouldn’t know; but J know Terror enough.” Here their conference was interrupted by some one turning the handle of the door, and | Paul opened it to admit Mr. Scriven, who said, | in an astonished way: ‘** Hallo! what’s this—what’s this? Who’s this man, Paul, and what’s he doing here?” Paul told him, and the old lawyer listened at- tentively till he had finished, when he said: ‘If that’s the case, we must hold this man fast. I just passed by the Berkely, and they’ve been killing people there. By the description you give, the party that began the fight can be spotted, Come along with me.” CHAPTER. XXXV. THE INQUEST WITHOUT A CORPSE. A crowp of people had gathered in the street before the Berkely Hotel, and a strong squad of policemen guarded the doors. Every now and then an ambulance drove up | and men came out with stretchers, some of them covered up with sheets, others carrying crushed and mutilated men, who groaned at every mo- tion of their bearers. The old lawyer, accompanied by Paul and Snoopey, the latter trembling in every limb and asny pale, came to the door, r. Scriven whispered something to the ser- geant who commanded the men at the door, and he answered: ‘‘ Certainly, sir. We only want to keep out the roughs, These strikers are all roun , and Mr. Skinner says they got up the row.” ‘‘Is he inside?—Skinner, I mean,” asked Mr, Scriven; to which the sergeant replied: ‘* Yes, sir; he and several more.” ‘‘ How did these people get hurt?’ asked Paul ven Beaver, in & low tone, as a stretcher passed out. The sergeant shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘A panic, they say. I don’t know. There was a fight up-stairs somewhere, and the poli- ticians took a hand in. One man’s dead, they say, and serves him right.” ‘Who's that?” asked Paul. * A fellow they call the Man of Iron, He was a great fighter, but they’ve laid him out, I hear. The best of them catehes it at last.” ' Mr. Scriven said no more, but beckoned to Paul, and they went in. The sergeant looked hard at Snoopey. ‘* 1s that fellow with you?” he asked. ‘“He’s a witness,” replied Scriven, vely. *T think we'll get at the bottom of this fight sooner than you expect, sergeant, Are there ay of your men inside?” ‘The pape there with the whole reserve,” answered sergeant, who knew the old lawyer well; and then they went in, and Scriven said to Paul, quietly: ts Keep your witness in a quiet corner. I'll take a room, where we can lock him up till we want him. You can’t trust those tramps. He may go back on you at the last moment.” e went to the desk, where the clerks, looking worried and excited, were trying to settle back to their work, and Speedily engaged a room not far from the office, into which they got Snoopey without attracting much notice, locked him in, and then went up-stairs. Here they were stopped by a policeman, but a few words in his ear made him say: “ All right, sir. The captain’s out yonder in Room 17, with the coroner, trying to find out what began the muss.” Scriven led the way to Room 17, and found two more policemen at the door, while inside, the coroner sat at a table, with a hastily gath- ered jury on the other side, and séveral men were standing before him. One of them was Marcellus Skinner, who was saying, as they approached: a Ab: as that of a man the bod called Locke—a desperate character. He was the leader of this e, and has incited several riots already. He must have begun this one, and got the worst of it. I have known Mr, Somers many years, and I am sure his story can be depended on.” Paul looked into the room over the shoul- ders of the policemen, and saw, lying on the table, the figure of Larry Locke, the face all covered with blood; and he said, in a tone of horror: ‘*My God! The poor fellow’s killed!” His uncle heard his voice, and turned his head to favor him with a glance of great malig- nity; but Paul and Scriven walked into the room, and the old lawyer said to the coroner who appeared to be surprised at the intrusion o strangers: | anise Sey ‘“‘Mr, Coroner, this gentleman has a witness _~- >: & ; ‘in oe -' Ne oe ‘ ‘ mit = Sa. Sh: tae 24 US hg oh <, ' s? a — i» ss 23 whose evidence may throw light on this question, Which is the man they call Somers?” The coroner lifted his eyebrows. “This gentleman. ic called Somers,” he said, pointing to a large man who stood by Skinner. ‘He says that he was assaulted by this Locke, and struck him with a ruler in self-defense.” Scriven nodded absently. “Ay, ay, so that’s the man. Can we bring in our witness? I expect to prove that thig poor fellow on the table was decoyed here by some pretext, on purpose to murder him in the crowd and confusion, and that the plot was made up last night by Mr. Skinner and this very man Somers, who is a tramp and thief,” Had a thunderbolt fallen the sensation could not have been greater. The coroner stammered: ‘‘ Mr. Scriven, sir, consider. This is a very serious accusation—” ‘*I know it,” returned the old lawyer, coolly, ** But I’m prepared to prove it. Dou’t let them out. Look at their faces,” Marcellus Skinner and Somers, both deadly pale, were staring open-mouthed at Scriven; but Skinner recovered himself enough to say, indignantly: “it’s a vile conspiracy, because Dye taken away my business from him. Don’t listen to him, Mr. Coroner.” . ‘*The law compels the gentleman to hear all witnesses,” retorted Scriven, sharply. ‘‘ You never took your business from me, sir, till I re- fused to join you in oppressing this poor fellow who lies dead there—” ‘*Don’t say dead,” interrupted Paul, who had been standing by the body on the table, unno- ticed, while this went on. can feel his pulse beating.” The coroner looked disgusted and the jury still more so, as well they might. ‘* What are you talking about, sir?’ the coro- ner said taritly. ‘‘ Are you a medical man?” ‘* No,” responded Paul, as tartly; ‘‘ but I can feel a pulse as well as any man. here is your doctor? This man’s not dead; he’s only stunned.” ‘“‘Go and call the surgeon,” said the coroner, fly, to a policeman at the door, *‘ and you, . Scriven, bring up your witness and prove what you’ve said, if you can.” Here poor Larry on the table uttered a groan that set all doubts of his living condition at rest, and in a few minutes afterward the sur- — geon hurried in from his duties down-stairs, and after a short examination of Larry, observed, — dryly: < Head like an elephant. By Jove, the skull is not fractured, after all. He'll be sensible in a little while.” SE Paul uttered au exclamation of joy, and Skim he. Rr ner muttered a low curse, while Mr. Scriven said: ane ‘*So much the better. He can tell who was with him, and how this thing came about, or I’m very much mistaken.” ) In fact, it was not very long after when Lar- ) ry opened his eyes, groaned, and said: ‘Ts that you, Mr. Paul? They me, at last, didn’t they? But it-took a deven, Where’s Maguire and Sutton?” Paul assisted him to a sitting position,and he looked around the room, Arrvesem Aa saying: ** What’s happened? What's this?” f . Scriven came close to him. ‘We thought you were dead,” he said. “ My poor fellow, this is the coroner.” Larry smiled rather ruefully. ** He’s very kind, I’m sure,” said the Man of Iron; ‘** but I ain’t dead yet.” Then he glanced round the room, and a fierce frown rested on his face as he said, pointing at Somers: ‘* There’s the son of a gun that double-banked me, and I can whip him any day.” As he spoke, he actually rose from the table, as strong as ever, and was going up to Somers, when the sharp captain of the police caught his arm, saying, y: “That'll do; none of that. You’re a good man, but you can’t fight here,” Then the coroner, who seemed to be beyond measure at the wonderful vi of mex! said to him: ** You’re well named the Man of Iron. Tell me why you came here?” ‘“‘I came with Jim Maguire and Steve Sutton to see the ebay [os the Bosses’ Union,” said ere’s their letter offering to rummaged in his pocket and brought it out, while Skinner and Somers looked on, much confused at the miscarriage of their plan : to interrupt. ‘“‘That feller said be was the secretary, and he give me sass, and set on me with a dozen more,” continued Larry, angrily. “Tl not deny they doubled-banked me, Mr. Coroner, for they took me off my guard; but I’ll say this: I'll take him and any two of his pals and th can’t do itagain now. stiff afore I went down, as it was, and all I got was on the back of the head.” At this point of the story Mr. Scriven quietly slipped out of the room, and the coroner said: ‘And you’re sure you came here to meet the Employers’ Union committee?” ve be, GOomicvoe “Don’t say dead. I double-banked. 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