Beadle's Dime Library No. 412 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Larry ; Locke, the Man of Iron. 5 ‘¢ He’s Tom Trainor’s father [” The intelligence did not seem to disturb Larry, who merely answered: “TIshe? And var did he go away?” ‘*T d’no’,” said Molly, ‘‘ but I’ve heern Mrs. Skelly say what she hearn tell.” “ And what was that?” “That the old man was awful mad, and _ turned him out, ever so mene re ago. So u’ now he’s come back, has he? ketch it now, Larry.” **Me? Why?” asked Larry. ***Cause you whipped Tom, Oh, he'll be even ‘with you, if he can. Now he knows he’s the old man’s grandson by rights—” ** Molly!” called Mrs, Skelly. ‘* Ma’am?” cried Molly, sweetly, while Larry slipped out of the back door. : ‘‘ What are ye doin’ there, gabbin’ and talkin’ like an ould country ma in’ to yer work” asked Mrs. Skelly. ‘‘ G’wan now! ere’s Larry? Where are ye, Larry?” ‘* Here, ma’am.” And Larry presented himself meekly and sud- denly, adding: ‘*] was looking at the ’taters, ma’am, and picking off bugs.” ‘“L’ave the boy lone,” grumbled Mr, Skelly, who was smoking his pipe in a contented frame of mind. ‘* Larry’s a good boy, Bridge.” ‘And who’s sayin’ he ain’t?’ asked Mr. Skelly, sharply. ‘‘Sure and can’t I talk to me own hired man, av | pl’ase? Larry, boy, g’wan down and take a look at the pig, boy. Av’ he’s finished the ‘taty peelin’s, put him in the shty and shut the door on him. Sure the cr’ater don’t know ye yet. And he’s a darlin’, so he is.” Larry went off toward the pig-sty to obey orders, when be heard the sound of whispering on the other side, and saw a head disappear over the edge of a rock on which Skelly’s shanty was built. Something made him hesitate a moment be- fore going on, and it was well he did, for the next moment he heard a voice cry out in guarded tones: ‘* That’s the snoozer. Give it to him, boys!” And then out sprung five boys, about his own age, whom he knew well as ’prentices in the mill, headed by Trainor, all carrying clubs, and made for hii. In a moment he had turned to flee, and ran like a deer past Skelly’s house, to the intense surprise of James, who hastily rose up, crying: * Holy Fathers, what’s the matter?” ‘Give it to’em both!” cried Trainor: and as he spoke he aimed a blow at Skelly’s head, which the athletic furnace-feeder parried with his arm, and closed in with an inarticulate cry of rage and pain, grappling Tom and bringing him to the ground, club and all: ell, yo ‘Give it to him,” screamed Tom, and with | that his four friends began to beat Skelly with their clubs, while the man, in his fury and des- peration, choked Trainor, who roared aloud and kicked out, trying to defend himself as he best could, Mrs. Skelly screamed at the top of her voice and ran into the house to get a broom, with which she laid about her as she knew best, while Molly Taber screamed: i, ‘Larry! Larry! Help!” SK gent Larry heard the shriek as he ran, for he had only gone to the end of the little garden-patch, to pick up a club he remembered to have seen there. A moment later he came running silently back, wielding the weapon, which was nothing more than the handle of a long spade, from which the blade bad gone. Before the assailants of Skelly could disable the overmatched man, Larry was on them, One sweeping blow of the tough pret h a crack like a pistol-shot, and one of the boys staggered back and dropped. he others turned on him at once, leavin Skelly, and drove Larry back with a shower o blows which he could not wholly parry. The enemy all carried base-ball clubs, and seemed to be set on his destruction; for they came on all together, and sent their blows in showers, trying to surround him. . He bad to leap back and to either side, strik- ing whenever he could, but not able to beat them off, till he felt astunning sensation in his head and staggered as one of the bats grazed his skull, In another minute he was beaten to his knees and felt the blows everywhere, on head, shoul- ders and back, while he was growing confused, with the single idea left in his head that he must fight till he was killed, He struggled up and threw all his remaining strength ‘into a sweeping blow of his staff, which struck something. He heard the crack and saw some one fall, then saw a man running toward him—a man. with a thick club. ‘wan, now, ye spalpeens!” roared the man, whose face was covered with blood, and, as be spoke, he struck one of Larry’s assailants a blow with bis club that elicited a yell of pain. That blow settled the contest. DBcth of Lar- ry’s foes turned to run, and Larry rushed after them, sending what force he had left into ie, instead of attend- | a last blow that took one in the back and elicited another howl. ‘*Shtop! Shtop!” shouted Skelly, catchi him by the arm. ‘‘ Don’t folly them. Don’t know who they are, bad luck to ’em?” Larry stopped at the signal, and found that he was nearly a hundred yards from the house. The blood was flowing from his head, and had covered his face and neck, while he began to feel dizzy as he went slowly back. ‘Ye did well, Larry, boy,” said the older man, as they came to the house. ‘ Begorra, av ye hadn’t come back when ye did, it’s kilt Id ave been intirely. Here, Bridge, get’s some water. et,” ‘*But, where’s Trainor?’ murmured Larry, stupidly. ‘‘ He was with them,” ‘*Don’t ye ax no questions,” responded Jim, curtly. “Be orra, they got all they wanted to-night, so they did. "Iwas the Black Hawk Gang, they calls themselves. Let them go.” Larry stared round him in the twilight, and saw that all his late enemies were gone, while he heard Molly Taber’s voice, as it whispered softly: Oh, my! Sure, we’re worth a hundred dead mcn ‘‘ Larry, boy, you did that elegant. ain't I glad you whipped ’em ail! I said he’d try to get even with you and hehas, That’s *cause his dad came home to-day.” CHAPTER VI. THE PRODIGAL’S RETURN. LARRY LOCKE went to the mill next day as if nothing had happened, though his head was decorated with strips of plaster, while Jim Skelly looked as if he had been at a prize fight; but neither of them saw any sign of Tom Trainor in the mill. Four of the ’prentices were there, with their heads tied up; and many were the jocular com- ments passed by the men on the affair, which had leaked out, magnified to the usual propor- tions, before the day was over. Larry found himself looked on with great curiosity by some of the men who were notorious as fighters, and more than one managed to drop in at Skelly’s cottage in the course of the week to hear of the affair in full, while all voted Larry ‘‘a good boy,” and confirmed the nick- name, which he had already earned, of the ‘* Boy of Iron.” But Tom Trainor did not make his appear- ance at the works during the week, and it was not till pay-day that any one saw him, Then, to their great astonishment, they found Tom ‘‘dressed up to kill,” as they put it, in the office at a desk, writing, or at least pre- tending to write, while a new face was at the pay-table; that of a big, sour-looking man, with a stern expressiun, who seemed at first not to be familiar with their names, for he was a long time paying off, Old Mr. Skinner was in the office, and the men noticed that he looked nervous and anxious, watching the big man furtively, as if he feared he might make mistakes. For a time no one knew who the big man was, till a little dispute occurred as to the payment of one of the hands for extra time, when the new paymaster turned round to say, audibly: ‘** How is this, father?” Then there was a murmur among the men. They had heard the rumor that Marcellus Skin- ner, the outcast son, had come back, but here was confirmation of the report for which they had not looked. Mr, Skinner came forward; said a few words, and put the matter straight, when the pay-roll proceeded, till Jim Skelly’s name was called, together with “‘ Larry Locke, helper.” hen they went up to the table the big man eyed them narrowly for several seconds, but said nothing beyond: ‘*Sign here. You can write, can’t you?” ‘* Yes, sir,” said Skelly, rather proudly, and he signed his name with some difficulty. The man at the table eyed him like a hawk necpr ' he signed, and then said to Larry ro y: ‘You can’t ~rite. Make your mark here. You get three dollars,” ed looked back at him with interest, as he replied: VThankee mister; I kin write. IT arned in the County House.” ‘You look like a —” n the man with a sneer, when he suddenly pulled up, like one put- ting a great constraint on himself, and added with a smile: ‘*'You look like a smart boy. Sign here!” Larry obeyed, and as he received his money he saw that the new paymaster was eying him are keenly than he had eyed Skelly ore im, The boy returned the gaze with interest as he tucked the money into his pocket, saying, placidly: | ‘‘Thankee kindly, sir. Reckon I will.” “You will what?” asked the other in a low tone, with a furtive scowl, ‘Know you next time,” responded Larry, as innocently as before, and then he went away from the table with a smothered chuckle pre- ceding him from the men who had heard him while the man at the table bit his lip, turned ’ very red, and muttered something to himself between his clinched teeth that sounded very like an oath, though he maintained his quiet ee ogg and continued to pay off the men as fore. When the last man had filed out of the gate the new paymaster turned to Mr. Skinner with rather a triumphant smile, observing: ‘** You see, I told you I could get on and make no mistakes, sir. The cash is ali right to a cent. If I’ve learned nothing else in the world, ve learned to look after the pennies.” Old Mr, Skinner looked approvingly at him aad answered slowly: ‘*T told you, Marcellus, that I was quite will- ing to give you a trial, and if I find that you have truly reformed I shall make no distinction between you and my other child; but you must pardon meif I test you thoroughly. Emmeline your sister, never disobeyed me. She married. into an excellent family, and her son is my pride and delight. You might bave been my partner, years ago, had you conducted yourself as a gentleman, even as an honest man, but you referred to have your own way and it has Saat you to eating husks. But 1am willin to forgive all and kelp you, even to help tha unfortunate boy whose stained birth he owes to you, if you will only behave as you have done to-day, all the time. Your advancement de- pends on yourself alone.” Marcellus Skinner turned away his head from his father to conceal a sneering expression that had become habitual to him, but only said: ‘Thank you, sir. Ill try to deserve your trust. I hope you'll think better of me before very long.” ‘*I’m sure I hope so, Marcellus,” replied the old man, coldly. ‘‘But you must admit that the scene you made with Paul was not calcu- lated tomake me love you any more than nature compels.” Marcellus, whose head was turned away still, ground his teeth with an expression of bitter rage at the name of Paul; but it was in tones of great humility he said: ‘** Ah, sir, don’t be too hard on me. I had not seen you for fifteen years and more. I did not know him, and he took hold of me as if I had been a felon. What wonder that I was tem- porarily irritated # But I'll do my best to make it up, sir. Old Skinner seemed to be somewhat mollified, © for he answered. ** Well, I won’t remember it against you, but do you remember this; Paul is my sole beir now, As you behave in future will be your share of whatI leave. Good-day. See to the closing of the works. There’s Paul now.” Indeed they heard the clatter of wheels out- side and saw through the glass door the dog- cart draw up, while Paul’s cheery eiy rung out through the glass: ‘** Hilloa, governor, here we ars, all ready to take you over to the races.” The old ironmaster’s face lighted up with . leasure, as it always did at the presence of his avorite grandson, and he hurried out, crying as he went: ‘** Here Lam, Paul. Don’t get out. in alone, I guess.” Marcellus Skinner had risen from his chair, his face ashen gray and working with envy as he saw the happy young man drive up, but he said nothing till the dog cart drove off. Then he looked all round the office, and at the deserted works, and saw that he was alone with Tom Trainor for the first time that day, Then he stamped his foot on the floor and burst out into a torrent of virulent curses, the foam flying from his white lips as he raved, on Paul, on bis father, on all who had displaced bim, while Tom, who was used to rough lan- guage, turned round on his high stool and looked on Paty ar hg de ‘ ** Ay,” he concluded. roing to the races, are ye, curse ye both! Yow’re to have all the cream of life and I’m to drink the sour whey am I? Oh, curse ve both, fifteen fathoms under the bottom of the lowest place of torment, curse ye, curse ye!” Exhausted by the violence of hisrage, he sunk into a chair and continued, in a low voice, as if exhausted: ‘*Tom, come here!” Tom, more than half frightened came to him and Marcellus continued slowly: ‘Tom, he says I did ye a wrong, and I guess it’s true. You might bave been Tom Skinner instead of Tom Nobody, if I'd married your mother, Maggie. Never mind; she’s dead now. But mark my words, Tom: guar’ my son, as true.as that stuck-up Paul be onged to his dad, that never earned a penny in his life, and now by heavens, I’ve come home, resolved to stand anything and everything, so long as I get back my rights atlast. D’yeye hear,Tommy? D’ye hear? ‘Yes, father,” answered Tom, doubtfully for he was cowed by the vehement passion of the other. o ‘* Ay, Tom, and mark’ee this: I'll get °em. Me and you, Tommy, me and you. I’m the ay son, and he give me the grand bounce. son! d’ye mind that?—-his son! And he took lean get Em’s baby, a little, puny, squalling brat, to be (ee) Gomicbooks (E fu . f és 5 ’ ‘ —~ * wr