The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1902-05-25
Betelnut Jack.
BY ALFRED HENRY LEWIS.
(Author of3Wolfville Days

(Author of5Wolfville Days.
tears as he set forth the latter's murder
| III Stanwix Hall.
Also, gathered that Betelnut Jack
had been no laggard at the work Of hurl-
ing stones and smashing windows in the
| Astor Place riot OF 1s40.
, And the soldiers killed one hundred
and thirty-four,' signed Betelnur JACK,
| when describing the battle with him and
his comrades; "and wounded four times
as many more. And all, mind you, for a
| name!" This last in accents OF profound
| disgust.
At last Betelnut Jack began to wax
! uneasy; it was apparent that he yearned
for his nest in the familiar Bowery.
With that he came bluntly to the pIr-
pose.
Tomorrow early he said. take one
Of the women inspectors and 90 down
to quarantine Sometime In the course
OF the day, the steamship 'Wolfang,'
from Bremen, will arrive 60 aboard at
once In the second cabin you will find
a tall, gray, old German: lean. with long
iah hair. He may have on dark goggles;
If he hasn't you will observe that he is
blind Of the right eye. His daughter a
girl of twenty-three, will be with him.
Her hair will be done up in that heavy
roll which hair-dressers call the water
fall, and hang In a silk close-ncsllel
net, low on her neck. Hidden in thu
girls hair are diamonds of a B ac.in alue
OF over one hundred and twaa:y thol-
sand dollars. You VII! search the old
man and have the woman inspector
search the girl. Don't conduct yourself
as though you knew what you were look
ing for Tell your assistant to lind the
airTs diamonds naturally: let her work
to them by degrees, not swoop on them.
Then Betelnut Jack disposed himself
for homeward fight I asked how ne ne
came aware Of the Jewels and the place
Of their concealment.
Never mind that now was his re-
NV: you'll know later. But get the dia-
monds; they're there and ycI must MT
fail I'VE come for you, as you're more
CAPABLE of doing the gentleman than
some Of the others: and this is case
where a dash of refinement won't hurt
the trick
With that Bete1nut Jack lounged over
to Fourth Street and disappeared to-
wards Broadway and the Bowery further
east.
Following my chiefs departure, I con-
tinued In idle contemplation OF the shad-
ows. The occupation did not forbid
| mental looking up ard down OF wns.1
would be my next days work. Inc
prospect was far from pleasing. men
one is under thirty, a proposal to plunder
a airI-a beautiful girl, doubtlesE-of her
diamonds, does not appeal to one. Their
would be woe tears, lamentations, mis-
cry with much wringing OF hands. l
| began to call myself a villain. Then,
as against her, and defensive of myself,
=, f1o1x PI1 ia Of~E
girls work. Be she beautiful or be she
favored i'll. still she was breaking the
law. It was our oath to seize the gems:
whatever of later wrong was acted, at
best or worst, it was not wrong done
her. In truth, when she was at last
left free and at liberty. she was 1avorec
f,eyond her deserts; fee those Customs
act which she was cheating spoke OF
| CRATES and keys and oars and bolts
In this wise, and as much as might oe
i comforted myself against the disgrace
of an enterprise from which, naturally
recoiled; hardening myself as to the poor
girl marked to be our prey. confess
Ii gained no great success: say WHAT
might / condemned myself:
While thus Illuminating that dishono1
| into which l conceived myself to have
fallen. recalled a story written by Ed
| gar Allan Poe It is a sketch wherein
wicked man is ever followed and thwart-
| cd by one who lives his exact semblance
| in each line Of face and FORM This
| doppler-ganger, as the Germans name him
while the same with himself In appear
ance and dress, is his percise opposite IN
moral nature. This struggle between
! the haunted one and his weird. begins
| in boyhood and continues till middle age
AT the last frantic under a last opposi-
| ton. the haunted one draws sword and
slays his enemy. Too late; as he wipes
| the blood from his blaze, he finds tha'
| he has killt1t his better self; too late ne
| sees that from that time to the end, the
| present will have no hope. the future hole
4 no heaven: that he must sink and sink
/ and sink, until he is grasped OF those
| hands outstretched of hell to forever have
! him for their horrid own. ] wondered
! if were not like that man unhappy;
| asked if I did not. by these various de-
/ lenses and apologies which l made ever
| Tor my wickedness, work for the death
| of nv better nature, whose DESTRUCTION
/ when it did come would mean the de-
parture forever of rrS' souls chance.
| stood up and shook myself in a canine
way. Decidedly, loneliness was making
me morbid. However that may be,
nassed a far from happy afternoon,
4 Fairly speaking, these contentious
| shook me somewhat in my resolves
/ There were moments when I determined
to refuse by diamond hunting commission
and resign my place. I even settled the
4 STYLE Of my resignation; it Should be full
1 of sarcasm: I would base it on the nee
! essity of giving my self-respect a Vaca'