Beadle's Dime Library No. 509 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

3 P p nia oS % = ¥ 2 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective. He was confronted by a singularly handsome young man, freshly dressed as if foran early morning stroll, who had precipitately retreated to the furthest extremity of the room, where he stood, pallid and startled, with a small pistol in” his trembling band. The unwelcome intruder had closed his lips tightly, as if half regretting the proposition he had made, but as the young man’s distrust seemed in no wise to diminish, the wild desire for assured security from his pursuers at any cost was again paramount, and the fugitive con- tinued to urge his entreaties with increased des- peration. ‘** Don’t give me away, mister; for God’s sake dovt!” he went on, ‘‘ Any sortof old duds— it’s all IT ask, and the golden secret is yours!” A look of interest, if not of positive greed, in the other’s face caused him to hurry on, with ‘yet more eagerness, **No wonder you hesitate to believe me, sir, . but I swear it’s the truth! A pencil and a scrap of paper, and the secret 1s your own exclusively, We buried ita twelvemonth back, just before being laid by the heels and railroaded for other crimes, No onecan share it with you. Gray- ton is doing a lifer at Trenton, while Brumma- gem Bob I left in the prison hospital, whence he can never come out alive. Quick; say the word! The gzards may be on my trail even now. I[ must get away from this, and out of the country, or ’m a goner. My secret for some cast-off clothes! Quick! is it a go?” The astonisbed young man, whose name was Harvey Mayfield, had by this time somewhat recovered from his trepidation, though he was still very pale. His resolution was taken, Pointing to a small writing-table, on which there were writing materials, he at the same time opened a wardrobe door, to the revelation of numerous articles of clothing hanging from hooks. The actions were significant. . The hunted man’s eyes sparkled at sign of the spare garments—which would have fitted him fairly, as the men were of about the same bight and build—and he was on the point of making aneager spring toward them, when Mayfield, now thoroughly composed, brought him to a stand with the leveled weapon, * Aren’t you forgetting something?’ demand- ed the latter, with another gesture toward the writing materials. ‘* The secret first, if you please.” ‘* Oh, yes—to be sure!” ; And, plumping himself down at the table, the convict began to write on a scrap of paper with great rapi iy considering the scrawling fist he made of 1t, Mayfield in the mean time overlook- ing the performance with a hawk-like greedi- ness of expression that seemed new to his hand- some and intelligent features. The scrawl completed, Mayfield quickly slip- itinto his pocket, while the other, spring- ing with no further interruption to the ward- robe, gathered in an armful of the coveted garments at a single swoop. But at this instant there was a sudden tramp- ling of many feet, accompanied by hoarse voices, in the garden outside. The escaped convict dropped his acquisition, and reeled back into the center of the room, his brutal face white and set, but with the despair- nee of a bunted wild beast at bay. - There was no mistaking the fresh interrup- tion. It was the hue and cry, the closing-in of the fell pursuit that death-knelled his fleeing ss Ps e glared net about him. Then, after a movement toward the door, he clinched bis teeth, his eyes blazed from under their beetle- brows, and all the tiger in his evil nature was to the surface. “Too late! cornered at last!” he snarled. ‘Well, to the death then, sooner than back to the cells, and the infernal punishment awaiting me there!” He snatched a saber from a circle of militar trophies that ornamented one of the walls, and, as the shouts and hubbub round-about the house increased, he leaped out of the window, with a sort of defiance roar. Harvey Mayfield quietly remained in his room, pale and composed, while the sounds of a desperate contest going on in the garden came up to him, and, indeed, speedily aroused the entire household, Then came two ringing shots, and the inmates of the house made their appearance upon the scene by the hails, stairease and front door, most of them not wholly dressed. Out they rushed to behold the escaped con- vict motionless on his back, his sword-arm smashed by a bullet at the elbow, the life-blood welling up from afar more terrible wound in the chest, from which his prison-garb was already saturated. Sternly contemplating the prostrate form from a short distance, stood an authoritative-looking man, with a revolver, still smoking, in his owered grasp. Near at hand, and stanching their wounds as hest they might, were two men, likewise prison officials, it would seem, who had been severely slashed with the saber in the des- perado’s band, one with a deep cut on the cheek, \ the other across the thigh. A little apart from the trio, stood an unassuming, keen-eyed man, interestedly observing the tragic scene, of which it was somehow evident that he had been a non- participating witness, and who likewise, some- how, afforded the impression that he was a de- tective. A considerable crowd by this time had gathered about the dramatic group thus in- dividualized. ‘* Is he dead, quite dead, think you?” The words, half-horritied, balf-eager, were Harvey Mayfield’s, who was leaning forward, with his eyes fastened so searchingly upon the ghastly, upturned face as to seem heedless or unconscious of his surroundings, ‘*Dead? Yes, dead as a smoked herring, or there’s no virtue in the bullet that’s in his des- yerate heart,” replied the authoritative man. t’s all up with Jem Burkitt, that was Pris- oner No, 94, and I call every one here to witness that be forced us to proceed to ex- tremities, and brought his blood on his own head. Am I not right?’ and he turned some- what appealingly to the unassuming, keen eyed man, The latter’s attention had been attracted to young Mayfield, from whom he did not with- draw his gaze as he answered: ‘*You only did your duty, Van Wart; there can be no doubt ag to that.” ‘¢ Well, I should say so,” continued the other. ‘‘' Why, the scoundrel’s sword-point was at my throat before I broke his arm with the first shot, and, as he tried to change his hilt-grip, I gave him his quietus.” ‘‘ True enough, too,” put in one of the wound- ed guards, both of whom had by this time suc- ceeded in bandaging their hurts, ‘‘ for both Jud- kins and I had thought ourselves about done for, so sudden and murderous was the fellow’s attack. By the way, whose room-window up yonder did he jump out of? and how could he have got hold of that toasting-fork, 1 wonder?” Mayfield stepped forward, and made the ne- cessary explanations, though without making any allusion to the convict’s secret or the scrap of writing. His story was not questioned. ‘““That’s always the first idea of a runaway,” said Keeper Van Wart, nodding—‘‘ to exchange their stripes for any sort of every-day duds at any and all hazards. How long was he in your room, sir, before he took the alarm?” ‘* Not more than half a minute, I should say,” replied the young man, who had prudently left his pistol behind him, ‘‘ [own to have been fairly startled out of my senses at first by the fellow’s appearance, J had retreated into a corner, and he was. helping himself to the con- tents of my wardrobe closet, when your hue and ery interrupted him.” A little later, when the keepers had carried the body of their victim away, Harvey May- field was about re-entering his boarding house, after a nerve-bracing stroll up the village street, when a touch was laid on his arm. He turned to find himself confronted by the unassuming, keen-eyed man already alluded to, ‘“T respectfully request, sir,” said the latter, quietly, ‘ta few words with you, in your room.’ ‘‘ Certainly,” was the surprised, but not dis- composed reply. ‘* Whom have I the honor of addressing, sir?” The answer was evidently unexpected, It was this: ‘‘T am Major Jack Falconbridge, otherwise Old Falcon, the detective, at your service, sir.” CHAPTER II. MAJOR JACK, ALIAS OLD FALCON, _Mayrirevp had involuntarily started at the unlooked-for response, ‘Old Falcon!” he repeated, in a somewhat awed tone; ‘‘Old Falcon, variously known as the Meteor Detective, Hounder Jack, Streak-o’- Light Maje, and the Thunderbolt.” An assenting but balf-deprecating smile was the self-introduced detective’s answer. ‘¢ Come in with me, since you wish it, major,” continued the young man, thoroughly self-com- posed again. ‘Naturally enough, you may want to question me more fully as to this morn- ing’s strange tragedy, though there is really little more to tell.” As the ‘letective took a proffered seat in May- fiela’s room, and threw a comprehensive glance around him, he said: “That I am professionally interested, Mr, Mayfield, in that dead vonvict’s past career you will presently understand, Do you mind my questioning you, perhaps a little sharply?” ‘Nota bit of it ,” returned Mayfield, coldly, ‘‘T have she to conceal.” 3 ‘‘- You are fortunate, for there are few men who can truthfully assert as much. This is a first return to your room since the tragedy, presume?” | ‘‘Itis, Iwas greatly upset, and needed the stroll I have just taken to compose myself,” ‘Naturally. Your explanation to the prison officials of your brief preliminary encounter | | with the fugitive convict was doubtless sub- | stantially correct,” “Tt was,” ‘**T mean, you would not wish to alter or re- vise it, upon conscientious reflection?” ~ re eek * MG eee oe Ue Mee ee ** In no particular that I can think of.” ‘** And the fellow was here not more than half a minute?” ‘*‘T should say not, but perhaps for a minute; not more than that,” ‘¢ And he at once grabbed the sword from among yonder trophies, terrorizing you com- pletely, in his demand for clothing?” ‘Yes: Iam ashamed to own it,” ‘‘ But, besides being taken by surprise, you were wholly defenseless?” ‘¢ Of course,” ‘¢ Whose revolver is this?’ And Old Falcon pointed to the AE stip on the dressing-case, where its owner had hastily thrust it partly out of sight on rushing out into the garden. Mayfield saw that he must be yet more wary in his replies to this inquisitor, but be had him- self well in hand. “Tt is mine, if you think it important to know,” he replied, steadily. : ‘‘One wouldn’t imagine you to be so aguly terrorized, even by a desperate convict, wit that little barker in your hand.” . ‘‘ How do you know it was in my hand?” ‘““T don’t know that exactly,” replied the de- tective, who had rested bis touch lightly upon the revolver butt, as if feeling of its pulse, ‘* But I do know that some hand has grasped it within the past hour—within the time of the convict’s appearance here in this room, I am not deceived. The lingering warmth of that grasp is still upon it,” ‘You are a shrewd man, Mr. Detective,” commented the young man, with not altogether mock admiration. ‘Thanks; but am I not right?” ‘‘ Perfectly. Make yourself easy; the pistol was in my band when the convict confronted me with the saber. But it didn’t seem to startle him a cent’s worth.” And Mayfield quietly took the cylinder out of the revolver, to show that it was not loaded, ‘¢ You see,” he remarked, sarcastically, ‘‘ even a desperate escaped criminal might fail to be seriously impressed by a revolver, that had been perhaps snapped ineffectually in his face several times.” The detective laughed, ‘‘-You are one ahead of me,” said he, good- humoredly. ‘But, I think J can even up. Your time-estimates, for instance, are sadly out of the way.” ** How so?” ‘Since the fellow must have been with you here nearer ten minutes than to the best of your recollection.” ‘The deuce he was!” ‘To be sure; for I saw him enter by the win- dow, from my position at the garden-front, and sent back notice to that effect, by a passing vil- lage urchin, to the prison men, who had just turned up another road. I also timed the fel- low’s Sey repuet eight minutes, to a dot,” Young ayfield nearly lost countenance, though not quite, notwithstanding that the dead man’s written secret seemed to grow heavy in the inner waistcoat-pocket in which it was concealed. ‘* Of course, I must stand corrected,” said he, with assumed carelessness, ‘‘I shouldn’t bave thought the man was here so long. But then the circumstances were embarrassing.” **Of course, of course!” easily. ‘‘Still—are you quite sure that he snatched the saber from the wall instantly upon entering?” ‘** T should say so!” ‘** Hven before he made any parley?” 6s Yes.” “Or seated himself at your writing-tablo yonder?” ‘* At my writing-table—he?” ‘* Yes; for, from my position outside, I could notice his bended attitude as he probably scrib- bled away, as with the laboriousness natural to an ignorant and illiterate man.” ‘** Youre all out.” ‘*No, ’m not, young man! Your visitor’s parley with you lasted, we will say, three min- utes; his pen-and-ink performance would con- sume, say, four minutes more; which would leave just one more for him to start for that wardrobe, for instance, to appropriate an arm- ful of the stipulated garments, before stage er- ing back in despair, and snatching the sword bong which to confront his pursuers in the gar- en. ' Mayfield could not answer at once, though, by an effort, be managed to retain his outward composure. Be The accuracy of the detective’s acumen and deductions seemed little short of preternaturel, And, moreover, he began to grow uncomforta- ble under those falcon eyes, whose peculiarity might have well earned for him bis sobriquet of Olt Falcon. “Stranger, fiercer, more paralyz- ing eyes had surely never before looked out of a human head. They were no less magnetic than terrific. They seemed not only to penetrate into the young men’s soul, but to clutch and drag at his golden secret, as might the wild bawk at the heart of its furred or feathered vic- tim, with gloating gaze and insatiable talons, in its eyried nest. d the oddest feature of their peculiarity was that their fierceness and pene- tration did not change in the least even when — — el comicbooks. con e 4 if 491.2% sip