Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 416 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

a eee omg sa - 4 7. i i “ tp Ge | fame be =< 5 a. 7 mee ees c 7 e = 5 y 7 ao 4 F. oo ‘ \ Y mm a) r¥ ih « 4; +, a fed a Ss > nd . * Be j f {om ' oe a vs }- ‘ * ’¢ se De al re we ¢ ‘< - ae oe yy * Age or oe “i . * P. v. sf ick re 7 he ’ ¢, : a = ¥ \ wa Vs " > cau — E ; * — ries a* % ' ts . + “ae : » ‘~~ - =~ 7 ae “ ~~ a? . omy i - want, when Medea restrained he as it: >-sthe. i livered message and stood gazing at the abashed lad without fully comprehending his meaning. The boy slightly raised one elbow, as though to ward off a blow as she advanced a step, but it Was a purely mechanical gesture, born of a sad experience. ‘*Them’s jest what he said fer me to say, mum, an’ ’tain’t my fault ef it don’t hit ye right whar ye live, be it, now?” ** You are certain you have not made a mis- take in the number of the room? You are posi- tive I am the person asked for?” A broad grin cracked the dirt crust, and the reply came promptly, more distinct: ‘’Deed, mum, an’ how could I? axed fer to see the leddy who boarded here, an’ I reckon it’d puzzle a Philadelphy lawyer fer to find ary other then jest you, mum. Wimmen | | | ' Monte:Jim, the SIgck Sheep or Pismarge: - a ee ee a ‘ a ee - oe es round, beardless, ruddy face glowed as a f Still perplexed, Medea glanced from the card e | to it had been soaped and dry-polished for t occasion. the visitor. * 1 hardly understand how you could know The only dull point about him was his little | anything of my connection with my—with the Pig-eyes, of a pale, watery-blue color. ‘Then there is no mistake,” he added, with a sigh—almost a grunt—of evident relief. ‘You are a perfect stranger to me, sir,” was her cold cou:ment. ‘‘I expected to meet a friend, or I should not have come at all. You can have no business with me that cannot be more properly transacted by my cousin, Mr. Pennington.” Bowing again, she was about leaving the room The gent | when the fat little man hastily checked her with | the words: ** It’s about Lloyd Pennington, ma’am—” ** What do you know of him?’ Medea sharply is most powerful skeerce in these yer diggin’s— | cried, turning so pa ae that the man started most powerful skeerce—an’ divil a lie in that, | back, catching his hee axin pardin, mum.” ‘Did be send no card—did he give you his name?” ‘‘ Never a name, mum, onless it was prented on a fold of his trowsers, almost tripping himself up. ‘* Dear me, Miss Pennington, you almost take my breath away! You do, indeed!” he gasped, dropping his hat and making a vain effort to onto the toe o’ his boot, an’ I dodged that afore catch it, but only succeeding in knocking it to it could ketch me,” grinned the messenger. ‘‘ Ef ; the further corner of the room. ‘*“My nerves it’s keerds you want, mum, I kin fetch up a | are so delicate—the merest trifle completely up- deck in a minnit—an’ it shain’t cost ye a cent, ef I hev to steal °em, mum!” With unusual alacrity for him, the ragged imp | | sets me. It does, indeed!” A husky, spasmodic laugh came gurgling from his fat neck. His stumpy hands rubbed was about to speed away to supply this fancied | together. His fishy eyes seemed about to start 1 m by a gesture then decided: ; | from their sockets. ‘Then, with a bobbing bow, he turned and rushed into the corner after his “Wait a moment, and you may show me | hat. down-stairs. You are certain the gentleman did But instead of immediately securing it, be a mention hisname? You don’t know who he | drew a sma!l bottle and a teaspoon from his The youngster shook his head until the tangled locks of tow-colored hair fell over his eyes. With a short, faint laugh, Medea Pennington conquered her nervousness, and closing the door behind her, followed her impish guide down the steep, narrow flight of stairs to the room on the ground floor, which was dignified by the name of parlor, only to be deserted by the lad when jerked his head toward the closed door, saying e scuttled off: ‘Thar she be, in yender, mum—the boss is yelpin’ fer me, an’ thar’ll be a holy picnic ef I eep him waitin’.” edea paused in the dimly-lighted passage, vhalf-inclined to retreat to her room, and thus avoid the interview so queerly solicited. Her first thought had been that her visitor was Will Rice, whom she had not met or heard of - since their hasty per Sng 6 the depot eight-and- but she forty hours ago; ad hardly left her room before this idea was dismissed. Surely he would have acted with a little more regard for the pro- prieties—would have sent up his card, or his name, at least? And yet, if not Will Rice, who — eould it be? What gentleman could possibly be seeking an interview with her—unless— - There arose before her the vision of a tall, aceful figure, a strong, handsome face from ic ‘which beamed eyes of the deepest blue, soft and lustrous as those of a woman, yet filled with a etic power whose ‘uliar influence she not yet been eepiaps able to conquer; the face, figure, and eyes of the man who had called himself Monte Jim, the Black Sheep of Bis- -* marck! Obeying the impulse which so suddenly seized edea Pennington glided forward, and turning the knob, pushed wide the door and eteaad the threshold—to discover the next in- stant that neither of her suspicions were cor- rect - sa git was a Fey hay stranger who turned swiftly om the le mirror in which he seemed to have been admiring his own reflection, as the - door opened, snatching off his silk hat and bow- i a ad low in evident confusion at baving been bt in this Narcissus-like occupation. Most happy, Miss Pennington—allow me!” he mumbled, almost stumbling at full length in his confused haste to offer the young lady a chair. ‘*So very kind of you—lI hardly dared a you would grant me an interview.” - His courtesy was acknowledged by a cold bow but the young lady made no offer to accept the proffere’ convenience. ** There must be some mistake—” _of Chicago,” was the swift interruption. ‘ That my. Is ao name?” eerie 4 oe - 4 a. 1 considerably taller and less chunky, since his | find, but that little imp in rags and dirt ran _ stumpy hands were almost hidden from. sight | away before I could do so much as give him my by the cuffs, and the ends of his trowsers lay | card, - jn folds over his brilliantly-polished boots, ©. Sele | oJ x atk * ae D> ey an orier to make it meet across his chest. His | silk hat was painfully smooth and shiny. What | mas linen was visible to the eye shone like pclished _ jvory. A gaudy brilliant shone in his scarf, | while his short fingers glittered with rings, and | . @ huge bunch of seals dangled from his fob. | er. «ee Tis bair was curled and glistened with oil. His os | ao ~~ » fu " + te"~ . ae ge “ty - colder was her bow. This person im- pressed her most disagreeably. Possibly because She had expected to behold one different in al- every respect, ITLOs ‘ oe: d yet, the stranger’s get-up was fairly puvksy pe after a certain fashion. His rather roadcloth, plainly intended for a man f | | | | } “Not if your name is Miss Medea Pennington, | Me DRUNK! when I'd rather ' pocket, pouring a few drops of some dark liquid from one into the other, swallowed .the dose, caught up bis hat as the articles vanished, then turned once more toward Medea, smiling and smirking profusely. ‘*] most humbly beg your pardon, Miss Pen- nington, but I really could not help it! It’s my heart—l’m ajl heart, my most intimate friends say. The least shock sets it jumping up and down so violently that I have to keep my mouth shut for fear it should fairly leap outside and shock some one else. Nothing but my favor- ite drops saved me this time,. I’m terribly ashamed, but really I couldn’t help it. I beg your pardon, I’m sure— There! [Im myself again!” In amazement Medea stared at the strange creature, rather more than half-inclined to deem him a lunatic, as he nervously before her. Nor was she less astonished at the sudden and complete change which c.me over him as he u‘tered the last sentence. As though by magic, all traces of nervousness vanished, His quivering members became still, his crimson countenance resumed its normal color, and his voice sounded clear and distinct. From a dancing dervish, he became a calm, suave gentleman, so far as outward seeming went, at least. ‘*T am an unfortunate man, Miss Pennington,” he said, his tones grave, his round countenance taking onan earnest look. ‘'I am the victim of a most peculiar and mysterious malady, liable to be taken as you unluckily witnessed just now, at any hour of the ey It comes over me with the rapidity of the hghtning’s stroke, giving no warning by which it can be foretold. tis a disease beyond the arts of physicians to cores though I carry an alleviative in this little vial. ‘*No apology is necessary, sir,” said Medea, coldly, still unable to control the strange renug- nance with which this man had inspired her from the first, though she felt a vague pity for one so strangely afflicted. ‘Your pardon once more, Miss Pennington,” was the swift response, while the other expression gave way to one of whimsical good-humor, ‘ It _ 1s notan agreeable task, this confessing one’s mis- fortunes to a fair young lady, but better so than to rest under the degrading suspicion of drunken- ness; and my fri nds solemnly assure me that when I am suffering from one of my spells they could almost take their oath that 1 am drunk—they do, on my sacred word of honor! Drunk, ma’am—and me the deadly, uncompro- mising enemy of all intoxicating liquor, ma’am! ie once a day regular, for a thousand ages, than to even smell of wh’sky!” is ‘*T do not doubt your assurance in the least, «sir, | that—” But you mentioned a name, a moment ago, ‘Which reminds me,” be hastily muttered, opening his tightly-fitting coat and fishing forth a card-case from his vest pocket—not without a udey person was tightly inclosed in a suit of | good deal of straining and contortions, however. lac ‘** Rather embarrassing, this self-introduction, I Allow me, ma’am!” Medea accepted the proffered bit of paste- - while the coat was strained almost to tearing | board on which was written, in a round, school- boy hand, the legend, | ‘*Pror. Kine Smita, of Mandan.” | _ “My name, ma’am,” said the professor, bow- ing rapidly, rubbing bis stumpy hands togeth- ‘And your humble servant to command, ma’am.” einer owner of the name you recently mentioned. I never met you—never heard of you before.” ‘*The loss is mine, ma’am,” with another low bow; but the professor straightened up again and his manner underwent another sudden change. 7 3 From obsequious politeness, he became blunt and short-speaking, the words dropping from his lips almost like bullets, ‘‘?m aman of business, ma’am. I was on the train which brougbt youto B smarck, I saw that ungodly bully, Curly Kaine, the King of Bismarck, as he boastingly calls himself, perse- cuting you, and 1 was just hastening to your defense, when one of those in—I should say, un- fortunate spells overpowered me. ‘* When I recovered, you were talking with a certain person who is known here as Monte James. Without intending to listen toa pri- vate conversation—if such it may be termed, taking place in a public coach—I overheard you asking him about a certain person called Lloyd Pennington—” ‘*Do you know any person by that name?” asked Medea. ‘*T did, once—long years ago.” ‘*And now? Is he still living? Or is he—is he dead?” ‘* Still living—worse luck!” was the sharp re- sponse. ‘* May I ask what you mean by that ejacula- tion, sir?” The flabby lips parted as though to utter a hasty reply to this rather imperious demand; but then they closed again without a sound es- caping their screwed-up portals, while the rosy face grew flaming red, and the pig eyes pro- truded more than ordinary. Professor King Smith hastily snatched out a handkerchief, and clasping both hands over his pug nose, blew a blast that was almost loud enough to rouse the seven sleepers, then nodded rapidly as he returned the useful article to bis tail pocket, an ugly chuckle gurgling up in his throat. “Fooled it that time, anyhow! Beg pardon, ma’am, but I felt as though one of my unfor- tunate attacks was coming on, and I resolved to smother it in its birth, if it blew my head | off! hopped about ‘* Now to business once more, You were pleased to ask?” “What ow meant by adding the words ‘worse luck’ to your declaration that Lloyd Pennington still lived?” ‘*T am bound to answer, of course, but, first one word: If this man is a particular friend of yours, Miss Pennington—if he is or was once dear to your heart—the only answer I can give will shock you dreadfully.’ Medea turned a trifle paler, impressed even against’ her will by the grave earnestness with which these words were spoken; but her weak- ness was of brief duration, and her voice rung out clear and steady when she spoke again: ‘* Tf it is the truth, I can bear the worst. You have said too much not to be more explicit. I have aright to hear all, yet I ask it of youasa favor; what have you to tell me about the man I once knew as Lloyd Pennington?” ‘* May I ask your object in seeking this man?” ‘You may not,” was the firm response. ‘I did not seek this interview. You came here of your own accord, and when I was about to leave you, you called me back by pronouncing that name. You must have come with the intention of telling me something concerning bim. Now you must do so.” ‘*T will,” was the sharp, bitter response. “TI said worse luck, because I hate him for the ter- rible wrong he once did my only sister—be- cause I could wring his beart dry of its best blood, drop by drop, if I only had him in my power!” : Seeming to choke with the intensity of his assion, he caught convulsively at his throat. hen he gratingly added: ‘*Only for her, I would bave killed bim like a mad-dog!” ‘‘Yet you come here and ask me to believe all you may say against him—you, who hate him so intensely that the mere mention of his name almost throws you into'convulsions!” cried Medea, her eyes flashing, her lips curling. Instantly all signs of emotion vanished from the face of the professor, and once more he seemed the cool, sharp-witted man of business as he confronted the proud beauty. ‘* Not so, Miss Pennington. I did not come here to denounce Lloyd Pennington, because my lips are forever sealed on the subject of his crimes.” ‘You speak in enigmas, man!” sige nye cried the young lady, ‘‘If you have only suc vague and unsatisfactory hints to give out, why did you come here? Why did you seek me out? What is your object in asking for an interview with me?” ** Not because I wished it on my own account, Miss Pennington, weds though you are,” was the cold response. ‘“‘Il am under orders, and when I was bidden I felt compelled to come. Eomicbdooks: ceoy — . Va dn H : vr ae ee ? gett i ee