Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 413 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

>A _ ~ me ati . ——- ‘ pe ar we ew eee me ei : 7 >} : ~ 6 Vis “L* ——— = -- =e - * ’ ~ —— * & ‘“‘T hope he'll do Ferg Fowler some good. I’m much obliged to you, Scotty, for this in- formation. You won’t mention that you gave it to me, eh?” ‘*Of course not.” ** Thanks, old fellow. There comes your car. Now deliver your message at the kennel.’ And as Scotty moved to take the car which had just come up, his inquisitor, who was none other than Bowery Burt, hurried away. Ferguson Fowler did not have to wait very long for the person for whom he had sent, for an hour after Scotty’s departure with the mes- sage his library was entered by a fine-looking man, who announced himself as Claude Cold- grip as he shook the banker’s hand. “T sent for you, captain,” said Fowler, as his eyes sparkled with eagerness. ‘‘I am myself once more, and, as my last thought was of you, I naturally recovered it with returning reason. I am now able to give you the particulars of what, but for one thing, would seem a terrible vision, or a blank in my life.” Captain Coldgrip, the detective, settled back in his chair and looked at the man before him. He had heard a good deal about Ferguson Fow- ler within the last four months; he was rather intimately acquainted with the doctor who had paid him frequent visits, and thus had heard considerable about this semewhat mysterious case, . Now he had no doubt of the millionaire’s re- turn to reason. His eyes no longer had the look of the maniac, he spoke coherently and in good voice. In short, everything indicated that Fow- ler was himself again. The banker was eager to tell his story, but not more so than the detective was to hear if. He began at the beginning; he told about the anonymous letters that had warned him against the Dragon League, the persistency of the ap- peals, the strange communication signed Morti- mer Nogg, which had culminated in bringing the chief of the League to his house, ’ Step by step, as if he knew that the sleuth- hound wanted the whole story, the banker pro- ceeded to the robbery, which he narrated in de- tail. The deadly pastille seemed to startle the pa- tient detective as if it had given him a clew. ** You have told me pretty much everything,” said Captain Coldgrip when Fowler paused. ‘* What is missing?” ‘** A description of the articles taken from the safe.” A age of ce and aversion seemed to pass over the gold king’s frame, ‘*Must you have that?” he asked with a visible tremor, — ‘*T must say ‘ yes.’” * The articles consisted of a package of pa- Bonds! ‘* Private papers of great value,” “ Well?” ‘‘There was a little iron box about six inches uare.” ‘*Containing jewels?” sé Yes.” * Will you give me a description of its con- tents as near as you can from memory?” Ferguson Fowler made no reply, but sat like a: n dumb before his judge, is face had not a shade of color, and his look had become a wild stare. ‘* What!” thought the Gotham sleuth. ‘ Is _ this man going back to insanity? Canit be that his return to reason is but a ray of light that is about to disappear?” “Yes, yes—the box!” resumed Fowler sudden- ly, and then leaning toward the detective, he laced one hand on his knee and continued in a owered voice: “Tt contained a dragon in miniature. I can- not describe it, for it is the most wonderful piece of work that ever came from the work- shop of man. The body of the beast is of a resembling gold, but when held in the sun- light, its scales have a greenish glitter. Its eyes are diamonds, and its tail, which moves, for it has unseen flexible joints, is studded with dia- -monds to the tip. AsI have told you, captain, this miniature and valuable monster must be _seen to be appreciated.” ‘Where did it come from?” asked the detec- tive, ‘‘ Heaven knows from whose ingenious hands.” ** But, 1 mean—” Captain Coldgrip was checked by Ferg Fow- -Jer’s wild look. ‘*T sent for you to find the eet valu- ables, and to break up this infamous Dragon e!” exclaimed the banker. ‘‘The con- spiracy, which is as dark as hades, is against me, hen they hear that I have come back to life, they will play a new hand as devilish as the one already played. Maybe it’ will be another terrible pastille-—-who knows? [I have repeated the boasts of the man called Mortimer Nogg, the head of the Dragon League. He came here for what he got—the papers and the dia- mond dragon. [ want them restored intact—lI want the whole League hunted down and placed in my power. I want to know what has become of my pet, Duke Dado, who was here when Mortimer Noge showed his Satanic hand. I rely on you. I know how you found Richard Redhilt, the murderer, in the depths of Colorado, and the Spanish Bonanza in the. New Mexican mountains. I have reasons for thinking that the oboe of the Dragon League are new to New ork-—-that I have been followed by them in other countries. I have made a tour of the world, as you may know. Now, captain, you may gotowork. Ihave given you all the clew Iecan. There is a fortune at the end of your trail. Find the papers and the dragon; run the Dragon League to the earth! Draw on me for any money needed. Only succeed! I believe I sha’n’t sleep till you report success. I must have the missing articles back if the hunt beggars me, I have been a focl. I see it now, but I will play a new hand successfully.” Coldgrip saw intense excitement in the eyes of the man who faced him. ‘*Did this Mortimer Nogg leave nothing be- hind?” he asked, quietly. ‘* Nothing! He went away as a snake swims across a pond, leaving no scent.” ‘* You will pardon me,” said a voice, and at that moment the door opened. ** Nydia!” exclaimed Fowler, as the figure of his beautiful ward entered the room. ‘*T could not help hearing your question?” she continued, addressing Captain Coldgrip. ‘* The man who was here that terrible night lett some- thing behind, but it was a partof his infamous destroyer.” When she finished she walked to the mahogany writing-desk at one side of the room and un- locked a drawer. ‘He left this,’ she said, coming back to the two wonder-struck men, with a tiny box in her hands. ‘‘ Here is the base of a pastille that was burning on the table in front of Mr. Fowler when I came home.” The detective leaned forward and looked into the little box; Ferguson Fowler leaned back in his chair and shuddered. ‘*Can [ havethis?” the detective asked, look- ing up into Nydia’s face.” ‘Certainly. I have been preserving it for you,” she said. The next moment the box and its contents were in the sleuth’s possession, ‘* Now, for God’s sake, go to work!” cried Fowler, throwing himself forward and clutch- ing the captain’s arm. ‘* You don’t know the depths of the infamy that confronts me. You will have to deal with viJains capable of doing anything. This League is against this pure girl here as well as against me! Mortimer Nogg is an alias; it is the mask of a modern devil—a man who deals with poison pastilles and heaven knows what else. Go! go! It is torture to see you here now. Go to the trail, Captain Cold- grip. I make you my avenger. Go!” erguson Fowler sunk .back into the chair ex- hausted and faint, and Claude Coldgrip, with a Seis Nydia, went to the most exciting trail of e. CHAPTER IV. SETTING THE MAN-TRAP, ““WorkK! work at last! By the holy stars, Floss, we'll be wearing spangles before the month’s out. I’ve got a gigantic game on my hands. I must play it with my old-time keen- ness an’ Beg all that’s required. You must be the decoy again, an’ if you don’t draw the wool over his eyes with your fatal beauty, I'll go bail an’ shake Gotham forever.” ‘* What is the game like?” asked the beautiful girl of sixteen who tistene | to words like these rom the course lips of the man who sat at a poor table in a darkened room in one of the worst quarters of New York, with his dirty fingers encircling a glass which he had just emptied, ‘Youw’re right, Floss,” he laughed. ‘‘ You have a right to know what the game is like, As I’ve just said, you have to act as a decoy.” ‘* Again?” said the girl drawing back as if with aversion. ** Don’t you like the trade?” was the response. **'Wouldn’t you like to wear dresses like the woman I showed you once—the woman who is deep in the big game with Elegant Ahab?” ‘* Not if I have to commit crime,” The man burst into a gruff, derisive laugh. The girl’s face flushed. ‘‘Crime, eh?” he cried, looking up at her. ‘“Crime is it, Floss? When did you string morals like beads? See hyer! Don’t you know that we've got to work for what we get?” ‘“’ Yog—" ‘‘ That’s just what we've got to do,” interrupt- ed the man who was rather small though well- built, and looked keen and merciless, ‘* You’ve played decoy before, but never ina case as important as this one. There’s thous- ands in it for us, there’s a wardrobe of duds fine enough for Sheba’s queen, an’ all for you! Ah! Floss, you don’t know how you will shine out in the parks one of these days. Don’t talk about crime, I don’t want any sentiment byer. We come straight down to business—plump down upon the game in band.” : The girl called Floss dropped into a chair on the opposite side of the table and waited for the man to proceed, He reflected and emptied his Captain Coldgrip in New York. glass before he proceeded, all the while eying the girl eure: from under his dark brows. ‘* It’s something like this,” he said at length. “We can’t get a dollar of the boodle till we get a certain troublesome man in our power; that is, Floss, we want him out of the way. I will dictate a certain story for you to tell this man, an’ you will vos your part of the game to per- fection as I know you cap. You are to decoy him to a certain house, some of the secrets of which ain’t entirely unknown to you.” ‘*To Papa Pangborn’s?” exclaimed the girl, ‘*To uowhar else,” snapped the man, giving her a frown. ‘*T have said—” Floss stopped suddenly, for she caught the fierce, tigerish glare of the two eyes fastened upon her. ‘Well, you’ve said what?” grated the man, leaning across the table. ‘‘Out with it! Don’t keep anything back from Bowery Burt.” ‘*T’ve said that I would never enter that house again,” finished Floss. ‘* By Jingo! you shall, and on a_ business er- rand, too! You’ve got almighty good lately, but you don’t want to exhibit this holiness when I’m around. Won’t go to Papa Pangborn's, eh? You will, an’ I know it! Now I proceed.” Bowery Burt, whom we have met before, leaned back again. , ‘*The man we want to catch must be decoyed to Papa Pangborn’s,” he went on. “ He is shrewd, but you can net him, Floss. He is the keenest and coolest man-catcher in Gotham, but not too keen to escape the a League, Tam talking about Captain Claude Coldgrip, the‘ in- vincible detective,’ as he is called.” Floss started, but the man did not happen to notice, as his eyes were turned away when he mentioned the name. ‘‘Is he after you?” asked the girl, timidly. ‘‘He is after the League,” responded Burt. ‘‘ Ah! I never told you what happened a week ago?” ss No.” ‘*Ferguson Fowler came to himself. After four months of lunacy, the up-town Creesus is all right again. Well, the first thing he did was to send for Captain Coldgrip, and set him on the track of certain parties. You have an interest in this affair, Floss; you don’t want this. man-lynx to succeed, What if he should walk in here an’ say, ‘ Bowery Burt, 1 want you for such and such transactions; I guess I'll take your decoy, too.” Floss uttered a quick cry of alarm, forcect from her by the coolly spoken words, ‘**He’s liable to do this some day if we don’t: show our claws under the velvet,” he went ons ‘Now, all depends on ronan en this lynx. The big game against millions will fail if we do not succeed. I am going to send you to Captain Coldgrip.” ‘*Whenf? murmured the girl. ‘*To-night. I can’t go myself, for I’m not of > material of which decoys are made,” smiled urt. ** Doesn’t he know Papa Pangborn?” ‘*Not as we do, Floss. This little dried-up specimen of Jewry is the sharpest man in New York. The police think they know him when they don't know him at all. Captain Coldgrip has been to his house, but Papa never showed him one of the dozen man-traps it contains. The detective has let the old Jew help him along with one or two games. You can get him into Papa Pangborn’s. J would fail. He would look into my eyes an’ say, ‘Oh, no, Bowery Burt! Thar’s nothin’ green in my optics!” Don’t you see?” Floss made no answer. FESS! | She knew she was in the power of this villaim of villains, that she was wholly in his clutches. She had known Bowery Burt from her child- hood: she had no recollection of any friend be- fore him, and yet she knew he was not her father. ‘ Her life had been spent in the plague-spot of New York, within a stone’s-throw of the famous Five Points, when that quarter was at its worst; her associates had been criminals: she had grown up almost to womanhood sur- rounded by crime, yet she loathed the appear- ance of evil, and would have fled but for the re- straining power of Bowery Burt. A thousand times she had planned to break her bonds, but the watchfulness of the Bowery bat always prevented. We have seen that the girl gave a start when Bowery Burt spoke the detective’s name. Had she heard it before? Had she seen Cap- tain Coldgrip in the haunts of vice? She was to help entrap him now: she was to deliver him over to the Dragon League of which she had heard Bowery Burt tell even before the opening of our story, She shuddered—she could not help it—when the little villain told her that the detective knew nothing of the true character of the man called Papa Pangborn. Floss had seen enough of him to read his char- acter to the bottom. A little Jew with all the subtlety and chicane of the most artful of his race—a man who could smile on the person he longed to strangle with his oily fingers—a miniature Satan in flesh! Eomicl JOO <SiGOr