American fiction -- 19th century; Dime novels; Popular literature
She was afraid if she sat directly opposite that window the magnetism
and fascination, horrible though it was, of that terrible face and those
fierce eyes, which affected her as face and eyes had never done before,
would irresistibly draw her glance in that direction and betray her
knowledge of the presence there.
“Well, miss,” the sick man resumed at length—and the sound of his voice
breaking the silence that had been so fraught with horror to her sent a
painful shock through her whole being—“we got out of the house with our
booty, which we carried in a bag, without disturbing any one, and we
were congratulating ourselves that we had done a wonderful, neat and
profitable job, when, just as we came around the corner by the front
entrance, a young chap pounced out upon us and felled Tom to the ground
with a swinging, unexpected blow.
“He then came for me as brave as a young giant, and I grappled with him.
He gave me a tough struggle of it, I can tell you; but, I knew the
boxing game better than he, and it wasn’t long before I had him laid out
as flat as a flounder.
“I did it just in the nick of time, too, for a ‘cop’ having got wind
that something wrong was up, came running down the street; so I just
dropped a bracelet, which Tom had made me stuff in my pocket, down
beside the fallen hero, to turn the scent upon him, and took to my
heels.
“Tom served me a mean trick, though,” the man went on, with a scowl,
“for he had only been slightly stunned by his fall, and while I was
fighting with the young chap, instead of coming to my help, he picked up
the bag, cleared out and hid it, and it was only a piece of good luck
that I got off at all. He said afterwards he thought I was able to take
care of myself, and he was afraid if he did not slip off with the booty
the noise of the rumpus would bring a cop along, and we’d lose it all.
But he’d got it hid before I found him, and I never saw anything of it
afterward, excepting the diamonds.
“I coaxed, begged and threatened, but he kept putting me off with
excuses; and, of course, I’d been with him so much in his dirty work
that he knew I would not dare turn against him, for I should only get as
deep into the mire as he would.
“As long as I was well, and able to help him in his plots, I managed to
squeezed enough out of him to keep us tolerably comfortable; but after I
got sick we all began to suffer.
“Miss Dalton,” the man said, excitedly, “Tom Drake is a rich man; he’s
got money and swag enough hid up to keep a dozen families handsome all
their lives. Why, those diamonds o’ your mother’s were a fortune in
themselves, and we’ve been starving and freezing here for the last two
months; _he’s known it, too_, and wouldn’t give us a dime to buy a loaf
of bread with.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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