88. CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
THE UNDERGROUND BRIDAL CHAMBER.
COLONEL Bim arrived in Philadelphia in time to witness
the grand illumination. Not only the public edifices, but
private dwellings and shops, were in a blaze of light. Every
city, and almost every town and village in the Union was
illuminated. Peace was restored, and the Federal Government
had once more resumed its sway.
“This is the place,” said Bim, to the four policemen who
attended him.
“Here?” said one of them in surprise, as they halted in
Sixth street, opposite Independence Square.
“Yes,” said Bim, “here we will find them, dead or
alive. But if they were not economical of their fish and
crackers, no doubt they starved to death.”
“They deserved such a fate,” said one of the officers.
“No doubt,” said Bim, leading the way, and igniting a
candle by means of a lucifer match when they passed into
the chamber. “But yet, gentlemen, I would rather have
them hung according to law than their blood should be on
my hands.”
“That's strange,” said one of the officers.
“Not so,” said Bim. “In fair fight I have killed my
share. But I do not fancy being an executioner of common
culprits. Here we are! and now we'll see what has been
their fate.” Saying this, he descended, followed, not without
some hesitation, by the ministers of the law. A great
accumulation of rust on the iron door of the dungeon attested
that it had not been disturbed.
“Cardini! Popoli!” said Bim, in a loud voice, “if you
live, answer me. I have come to release you from this
dungeon.”
“Yes!” cried they, after a momentary pause. “We live
—but are nearly famished. Are you General Ruffleton?”
“No,” said Bim, hurling back the door on its creaking
hinges, “I am only a Colonel!”
“Captain Bim!” said the pale and haggard Cardini, starting
back, and falling into the arms of Popoli.
“No such thing,” said Bim. “I am a Colonel! But no
matter. The war is over—the Union saved—and Ruffleton
is nowhere. I surrender you into the hands of justice, to
be tried for murder. Officers, do your duty. Take them
to the legal prison, until the day of trial. This is the prison
for offenders when there is no law to punish criminals; and
I think even an assassin has reason to prefer the lawful one.
Now, gentlemen, I must leave you. I have some private
business to transact.”
The Colonel hastened to the attic where his gold had been
left in the keeping of Solomon Mouser.
“Aha! Old Tuppenny!” said he, as he stalked in, and
beheld the Jew seated at a table figuring away on paper,
before a lighted tallow candle stuck in a porter bottle.
“Captain—it is Captain Bim,” exclaimed Solomon.
“No—I'm not Captain Bim. You are mistaken.”
“Mistaken? Not Captain Bim!” said Solomon, lifting
the candle and scanning the features of the officer.
“I'm Colonel Bim, at your service.”
“Ah! A Colonel! Good! But the higher the rank
the greater the expenditure. And it has been long since
you drew any money.”
“I have not drawn any, Solomon, since I was here in
person. So, if you have been paying drafts, they were
forgeries, and you must be the loser.”
“No—no! You don't understand me. They were no
drafts or checks; but I heard several creditors abusing you
in your absence, and I thought you would thank me for
paying the debts.”
“Debts?”
“Yes, debts of honor—honor, Colonel. I O Us.”
“Gambling debts. They were not large. I don't care
—for, between us, Solomon, I had some misgivings about
finding you this time. But since my money is safe, I won't
quarrel about a few disbursements to the swindlers that
used to cheat me. What did they amount to?”
“About $2,000.”
“Hardly. Have you the vouchers?”
“Here they are.”
“By George, that was signed when I was drunk,” said
Bim, gazing at the principal one—“but it's my signature—I
can't deny it.”
“It's a debt of honor, Colonel,” said the Jew, who had
purchased it for five cents on the dollar.
“Well,” said Bim, “charge me with it—but the rascal
offered to take half the amount—I recollect that—if I
would pay the next day—but I forgot it. The rest is safe?”
“Safe? Certainly! But it has brought me no interest,
no commission! Now, having got your commission, I hope
there will be some operations.”
“Commission? Oh, I understand. Yes, you'll make
money fast enough now. Why, you'll make your fortune,
Old Mouser. Haven't you heard the news?”
“I don't meddle with politics. But I see they are wasting
light everywhere, and the boys are selling extra papers in
the streets. I hope real estate and stocks will rise.”
“Rise? They'll go up like balloons, and you'll be rich!
Have you any stocks?”
“I've got some!” said Solomon.
“And I shall invest my money in them. Have you any
Pennsylvania Railroad shares?”
“I have one thousand shares!”
“And what did they cost you?”
“Ten dollars a share.”
“I'll give you fifteen.”
“Fifteen! Five thousand profit! And commission.”
“I don't care—I suppose it would be right.”
“Good! I'll do it!” And Mouser, who really had not
been well posted in recent events, hastily pulled from under
his vest the number of shares he had named, and with incredible
rapidity made the transfer.
“So far so good!” said Bim. “Now shell out the balance,
after deducting the commission for keeping my money
according to agreement.”
This Solomon did with alacrity, as if in fear the terrible
Colonel might change his mind; and then proceeded to
deduct a broker's commission for the purchase of the
stocks.
“What's that?” demanded Bim, on seeing one-fourth of
one per cent. added to the $15,000.
“Nothing—only the customary broker's commission—
you said you didn't care. It's all right, you know.”
“I meant the commission on the money drawn out of
your custody. But let it go!” said Bim, taking possession
of the remainder of the gold after all reductions. “The
speculation on the shares will satisfy me. I've got you,
Mouser! Mr. Corcoran advised me, just as I left Washington,
to buy Pennsylvania Railroad shares, and—”
“Mr. Corcoran! Did he say that? Are you sure?
What did he say you ought to give?”
“He didn't tell me the price I ought to pay,” said Bim,
having pocketed his shares and his cash; “but he said he
would buy all I could get—”
“He buy all! He? And how much will he give?”
“He said he would pay me twenty-five dollars for every
share I could produce.”
“Ah! I'm robbed! I'm cheated!” cried the miserable
man, and fainted.
“Hello, Old Jew!” said Bim, turning over Solomon's
body after it fell to the floor, “don't go to dying in my
presence! Wake up! Or they'll say I killed you! It
was a fair bargain, Solomon!” he added, stooping down
and bellowing in the Jew's ear. This produced signs of
returning animation, and the Colonel abandoned his banker,
and hurried away.
