University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.
The Sequel.

DURING Gordon's absence, the man in
glasses treated the whole company, and
drank himself, though with great moderation.
He waited long for the burglar, but
that individual not making his appearance,
he began to think he should not have the
pleasure of winning any more money from
him that night, and proposed to take his
leave.

`You doesn't go I hope without giving the
company all one more nipper,' observed the
red-faced proprietor of the establishment.—
`Gen'lemen should be gen'rous, when they
makes sich winnins as you have here to-night.'

And the speaker began to set glasses and
liquor upon the counter, taking it for granted
Marvin would act in accordance with his
friendly and disinterested suggestion.

At that moment, even the red-faced proprietor
himself, who prided himself on his
coolness, was startled by an unexpected incident.

Gordon burst into the room, pale, haggard
and perfectly desperate. He fixed his eyes
at first on Marvin, and did not look aside as
he advanced, but gazing at him with a look
of determined revenge, approached and
grasped his arm.

`I have lost all!' he whispered fiercely;
`not by you, but it has been stolen! You
must lend me now fifty dollars, to give me a
chance to win back what I have lost; and if
I lose that, I will repay you within a week.'

`I am sorry for you,' said the man in
glasses, coolly lighting a cigar and giving
the landlord change, `but I am no Jew—I
never lend money. I should be happy to
win another fifty from you, it is true, but I
could not think of lending it to you for the
purpose. So you will have to wait till some
other time, my good fellow—when you get
that fifty, for instance.'

Gordon, deathly pale, fairly trembled with
rage, but Marvin kept his keen, dark eye
upon him, which awed him and kept him
quiet. Marvin stepped boldly towards the
door, regardless of the dark looks not only
of Gordon, but of the whole avaricious,
desperate crew that coveted the money they
knew that he possessed.

Marvin passed down Ann street, until he
came to a long, narrow court, formed by a
mass of low, old fashioned, disagreeable
houses, which seemed ashamed to front the
street. Approaching one of these, and using
his knuckles as a knocker on the door,
he aroused an old woman, who appeared
with a light. She was a little, dried up,
sharp-featured specimen of humanity, that
had passed, by considerable, the middle age,
and appeared to have tallied her years upon
her face in wrinkles.

`Who now?' she cried, sharply. `There's
somebody always disturbin' us quiet, harmless
people, just at this time o' night—and
who is it this time, I'd like to know?'

`Hold your clatterer, old one,' returned
the man in glasses with an oath. `I am no
policeman; so don't try to appear needlessly
respectable, for I know you, hag—is Joe at
home—Joe Jenks?'

`He ought to be at this time of night, I
hope!' snarled the old woman.

`Very good; I want to see him.'

`It's too late—you can't come in—'

At that moment Marvin slipped a small
piece of silver in the woman's hand.

`Oh! it is you, is it?' she pursued, quite
pleasantly. I didn't know you afore. Come
in, do. Don't stumble over them chunks
of wood.'

And she held the light with the kindest
condescension to facilitate Marvin's entrance.

`Joe! Joe!' she screamed in the passage.

`Who the devil wants Joe, cried a sharp
voice from above, where all was dark and
gloomy.

`A gentleman what wants to see you!'

answered the old woman in a shrill key.—
`So open your door and show a light, or he
will break his neck gittin' up stairs.'

Shortly after, at the head of a dilapidated
staircase, there appeared a dim lamp, and
then the face and shoulders of Light Joe
protruded from a hole in the wall.

`Come up if you want to see me!' cried
Joe, `for it isn't convenient for me to come
down. Who are you? what the devil are
you after?'

Without answering, Marvin stumbled up
the creaking staircase.

`Good!' exclaimed Joe, recognizing him.
`Come in.'

To obey this last injunction, the man in
glasses had to stoop very low and make his
body very small, in order to accommodate
his dimensions to those of a cramped and
narrow passage, that must be passed by
those who would enter Joe's apartments.—
With some difficulty he succeeded in crowding
his body through, and was soon in the
sanctum sanctorum of the young burglar.

The room was much more comfortable
than one could have expected before enterit;
Joe having overlooked the inconvenience
of getting access to it, in view of the accommodations
of the interior. It was somewhat
dirty and contracted, it is true; and the
walls were very much worn; the floor rough
and bare; but, as Joe remarked to his visitor,
`what better could be expected on such
reasonable terms?'

There was but one chair in the room.—
This Joe shoved along the floor to Marvin;
he himself sitting on the bed.

`I have got some money for you,' said the
visitor.

`The d— you have!' exclaimed Light
Joe, starting to his feet. `How much?'

`One hundred dollars. That's all I could
raise.'

`It ain't enough!'

`I can't help it. If that don't suit you,
I'll not give you a cent.'

`Very well,' said Joe, with a toss of the
head. `If that's the case, you can crawl
through that hole again as quick as you
like. I must have two hundred, or you are
a ruined man before two days are over.'

`D— you!' exclaimed Marvin, impatiently.
`You are a snake—a blood-sucker
—a pest! But you shall have no more
than one hundred from me, I swear!'

Joe was firm. Marvin was at last obliged
to come to his terms. He gave the young
burglar two hundred dollars, for which Joe
gave a receipt, pledging himself to pay it
over to Kate, and never to trouble Marvin
again. This gentleman knew Joe to be an
honorable rogue, and a man of his word;
and felt in consequence much more at his
ease than before he paid him the money.

`Now,' said Joe, clutching the money eagerly,
`I'd like to know by what miracle
you came by this to-night.'

`Cards!'

`From whom?'

`Your particular friend, Gordon.'

`The deuce you did!' exclaimed the
young burglar in surprise. `You gulled him
then straight! I knew he had money, and
thought he'd keep it, but the poor devil
can't, it seems. Did you take all he had?'

Marvin gave Joe a full account of the
game, and repeated what Gordon had said
about a part of his money being stolen.

`I hope not,' said Joe; `that would be
too bad. He was so smart in getting it.—
But if he has lost it all, what a rich joke it is
all round; the cream of which is, I have a
couple of hundred for Kate, whom I shall
marry some day!'

Joe's mind was occupied with these agreeable
reflections as his visitor once more
crowded his body through the hole and groped
his way down stairs into the street.

Scarce had Marvin left the court when a
man closely muffled about the face issued
from the shadow of a house where he had
lain in wait, and stepping softly and cautiously
behind him, followed him along the
street.

It was near midnight, and the streets were
for the most part deserted; yet the spy followed
Marvin so carefully, and at such a
respectful distance, that although they were
frequently the only two passing, the man in
glasses did not suspect that he was the object
of pursuit.

They passed through several streets, and
still the spy came no nearer Marvin; but at
last the latter entered a dark, narrow, and
deserted alley, and in an instant the other
bounded to his side.

Marvin had keen ears, and was on his
guard. He wheeled about at the moment
the robber aimed a blow at his head with a
`slung shot,' and grasped his arm. A struggle
ensued, in which the robber drew his
knife, but before he could make use of it,
Marvin struck him senseless to the ground.

`I expected something like this,' said the
man in glasses, and he coolly dragged the
robber back to the entrance of the alley.—
`The fool might have known I would be on
guard, and that it would take more than one
to rob me. But who have we here?' he continued,
as he pulled the man towards the
light. Just as I thought—Gordon!'

The burglar staggered to his feet, Marvin
still holding him by the throat.

`Kill me and done with it!' muttered
Gordon. `I meant to have done the same
by you. I am mad to night, and would as
lief die as live.'

`I should think so!' returned Marvin.—
`You must be insane. What the devil do
you mean by coming upon me in this manner?'

`You have got all my money!' replied
Gordon, sullenly. `I meant to take back at
least a part of it, for I haven't a penny in
the world. I have lost a thousand dollars
this night—and all by foul means! You
cheated me and another robbed me!'

`Wretched simpleton!' exclaimed Marvin,
`you scruple not to rob others, and are driven
mad when robbed yourself. You win
giadly from others, but when you lose, you
attribute it to foul play. Now let me advise
you to go your way and be quiet, and to bear
your losses like a philosopher. In the morning
you will be sober, and be ashamed of
this. Good night.'

With these words, Marvin disappeared in
the dark passage, leaving Gordon rooted to
the spot. The burglar ground his teeth with
rage, and shook his clenched hand at the
retreating figure, but dared not follow the
powerful man again.

After a pause of some minutes, he turned
sullenly away and stalked back to his home
in Centre street.

Arrived there, he found the door of his
apartments locked and bolted on the inside,
and he could not enter. He struck the
clattering pannels with his fist, and with a
savage oath called upon whoever might be
within to open. No voice replied.

`By —!' thundered Gordon, stamping
the floor till the house jarred; `it is you.
Meg, in there; and if you don't open. I'll
break down the door, and crush you to atoms!'

Still there was no answer.

With all the force hatred and determined
rage supplied, the burglar threw himself
against the door. The lock was burst away
—the bolts cracked—the door swung upon
its hinges—but a strong chain clanked
across the entrance, preventing the door
from opening more than just sufficient to allow
him to look through the crack into the
room.

By the light of a lamp burning within, he
saw Meg Munson, standing erect in the centre
of the apartment, a smile of triumph on
her grim features, and a glittering knife in
her strong right hand. In her left she held
a small bundle over the hot coals in the uncovered
stove.

With a yell of rage Gordon saw that it
was a bundle of bank-notes.

`Back!' screamed the woman, glaring at
the red eyes that gleamed through the crevice
of the door, and brandishing the knife.

`If you break through I'll drop these bills
into the fire and stab you with this knife!'

Gordon ground his teeth with rage, but
dared not force the door, knowing as he did
the terrible temper of the woman within.

`Here,' pursued Meg, shaking the bank-notes
over the coals, is your half of the money.
I have taken my share because you did
not offer it to me willingly; and it is where
you will never find it unless I point out the
spot where it is hidden. Promise not to
harm me, and you shall come in and have
your money; and if you behave yourself,
you may have the rest some day.

For some minutes Gordon made no reply,
but Meg could see a pair of fiery eyes in the
dark passage without the door, and she could
hear him grind his teeth and foam at the
mouth. His rage was terrible, and she
knew it well, but she knew too that when
he saw her firm it would subside.

She was not mistaken. In a short time
Gordon spoke to her again, asking her to
let him in, and soon, promising all she required,
he entreated her to put up the knife
and undo the chain that barred his entrance.
She then spoke kindly yet friendly to him in
return, and handed him the money through
the crevice, which he clutched as the hungry
lion does his prey.

When she saw him perfectly sober she
took away the chain and let him in, still
holding in her strong hand her keen weapon
of defence, and warning him not to break
his promise.

Gordon threw himself heavily upon a
chair, and with his money grasped in his
brawny hands, and his brow gathered into a
frown, sat for half an hour gazing fiercely
and silently at the dying embers in the
stove.

Meg, meanwhile, leaving him alone, went
into Kate's room, and threw herself upon the
bed to sleep, with the knife still clutched in
her hand.